Run Among Thorns by Anna Louise Lucia Read Free Book Online

What was she trying to prove? Did domestic goddesses not kill people or something?
    Jenny sighed, warming her hands in the sudsy water she’d poured. What was she going to do? Throw the dishes around the room? Brain him with the milk jug this time, not just the milk?
    Part of her said, yes, that’s exactly what she needed to do, but the other part of her was terrified, simply terrified of what his comeback might be if she did.
    She remembered the hard strength of his fingers against her scalp, knowing all the while he was only showing her a part of his strength, that he was holding so much in reserve. What could that strength do to her?
    She had an idea.
    And it would be naïve to suppose he wouldn’t hurt her. Why wouldn’t he? He wanted answers. More importantly, he wanted the answers he expected to hear. It was her bad luck she couldn’t give them to him.

    When Kier came back in, cautiously, Jenny was sitting quietly at the table, hands folded on the table in front of her, back straight. She didn’t turn round as he stepped inside and locked the door behind him, but he saw her hands tighten their grip on each other.
    He sat down opposite her again and looked her over. She was staring at the tablecloth, her breathing deep and even, as if she were working hard to control it. He interpreted that as sign of cracks in her defences, and viewed it with professional pride. “Okay, Jenny,” he said, and watched her fingers twitch, just once. “We were answering questions, as I remember. I have lots of questions for you, Jenny.”
    She still hadn’t looked up.
    “How did your parents die, Jenny dear?”
    She looked up then, all right. Fast. Her lips parting slightly as her breath came quicker. The dark lashes lifted, unveiling those warm hazel eyes. For a moment there was a look of pain, of wariness, of aching vulnerability there. He could have sworn it was real.
    Then he saw her sink back into that quiet control again, the emotion that had animated her face smoothed away. Her gaze slid away from his.
    He leaned forward, dropping his chin into his hand. “So, how’d they die, Jenny?” It wasn’t as if he didn’t know, but how she spoke about it could be revealing. He was already almost certain her parents and their death were not part of any cover story.
    “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, her soft voice expressionless.
    He raised his eyebrows. “You know better than that. Remember the rules.”
    “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “I didn’t give you any choice.”
    She looked up again, stared at him malevolently, jaw clenching so tight he could see a muscle bunching. She expelled a deep breath through her nose and worked her jaw free, swallowing before she spoke.
    “I tell you what,” she said. “An answer for an answer. I’ll answer a question of yours, if you answer a question of mine.”
    What did she take him for? Some kind of idiot? Like it was ever going to be that simple. There was no reason not to play along, though. It could be revealing. “Okay, sure.” He shrugged. “How’d they die?”
    “No, you first. As a gesture of goodwill, Kier,” she said, her voice quite without sarcasm.
    McAllister relaxed back in his chair, deliberately loosing the tension in his neck and shoulders. “What do you want to know?” His mind ran through the questions he expected, trying to catalogue them, find innocuous answers. When can I go free? Who do you work for? Why won’t you believe me?
    “Are your parents alive?”
    He blinked, nonplussed, and suddenly felt uncomfortable, having her prying about his folks. Taken by surprise, he didn’t lie. “Yes,” he said.
    Her face was impassive. “They died in a car crash,” she said, calmly.
    He snorted. “Come on, Jenny, you can do better than that.”
    She simply raised an eyebrow at him, scorning his own short answer.
    McAllister sighed, leant forward again to pick at a crumb on the tablecloth. He thought about his folks and their