Read Online The Little Death by Andrea Speed - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andrea Speed
Ads: Link
him look like a little boy wearing his father’s clothes. “I don’t understand…. Why is someone trying to kill me?”
“’Cause you look like your brother.”
“Huh?”
“Look, I don’t know the details, but I think Sander got involved in something bad, and someone wants to shut him up for good. Either he escaped and they’re after you ’cause they think you’re him, or they killed him and then realized he had an identical twin who could have substituted for his brother at any point.”
Sloane wrapped his arms around his knees and had the thousand-yard stare of an accident victim. “You think he’s dead?”
I held back a sigh. I wanted to slap him, tell him shit like this happened all the time and there was simply no point in acting like it was some shocking thing, because it wasn’t. Then I remembered he was a more or less normal guy, with a more or less normal life. This was a shocking thing to him. It may even have been the first time someone had tried to kill him. I envied his naiveté. “I dunno. He could have just left town. Would he?”
“Leave town without telling me?” Sloane thought about that for a very long time, long enough that the possibility was clearly edging toward fair to decent territory. “He wouldn’t…. I mean, why would he…?”
“He’s never left you to twist in the wind for something he’s done?”
“No!” He paused, the hesitation obvious. “Well, never for something major.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
He looked away, lips working into a genuine pout this time. I almost felt bad for him, but then I remembered he’d probably slept with me as a way of manipulating me, so then I felt irritated with him. He’d have to decide if he preferred a dead brother or a traitorous one.
We went to my office, because it had a computer that hadn’t been eviscerated by gunfire, and was closer than my apartment. For some reason, I kinda didn’t want him to see my place, but whether it was due to the fact that trouble seemed to be following him or the fact that it was just a fucking mess was up for debate.
My overhead light bulb blew out as soon as I flipped the switch, and the flash of light made Sloane jump and let out a frightened yelp. I turned on the light in the foyer outside my office and then turned on my desk lamp, so there was some light in the room before I shut the door. The light in the foyer came through the opaque glass that used to say Spencer & Falconer. “Don’t worry. If anyone was shootin’ at us, we’d never see the muzzle flash, just feel the shot.”
“Was that supposed to be comforting?”
“No, realistic.” The blinds were all closed, so it was unlikely any of the dim light in here was getting outside, but I was just gambling on the fact that at least one of the gunmen having a new hole in him was going to slow them down.
I plugged the bird-shaped flash drive into my computer, and we lucked out, as it wasn’t encrypted. There were lots of files on it, though, a hodgepodge of images, text files, and video files. The file names were random letters and numbers that may have meant something to Sander but seemed like gibberish to me. I started randomly clicking things, just to see what I could turn up.
First thing that turned up was naked pictures. Since I was looking at a dick and balls without context, I had to ask, “This ain’t your brother, is it?”
Sloane, who was pacing with his arms wrapped around him, came over to my relic of a computer screen to look. As soon as he did, he reared back, as if I’d offended his delicate sensibilities. “Fuck no. Sander manscaped, for one, and for another, he didn’t bend to the left like that.”
“Thought not, but I wanted to make sure.”
Despite his earlier offense, Sloane leaned down, looking over my shoulder, suddenly interested. “That’s what’s on the flash drive?”
“Porn seems so pedestrian now, doesn’t it?” A random sampling was revealing that the photo
“’Cause you look like your brother.”
“Huh?”
“Look, I don’t know the details, but I think Sander got involved in something bad, and someone wants to shut him up for good. Either he escaped and they’re after you ’cause they think you’re him, or they killed him and then realized he had an identical twin who could have substituted for his brother at any point.”
Sloane wrapped his arms around his knees and had the thousand-yard stare of an accident victim. “You think he’s dead?”
I held back a sigh. I wanted to slap him, tell him shit like this happened all the time and there was simply no point in acting like it was some shocking thing, because it wasn’t. Then I remembered he was a more or less normal guy, with a more or less normal life. This was a shocking thing to him. It may even have been the first time someone had tried to kill him. I envied his naiveté. “I dunno. He could have just left town. Would he?”
“Leave town without telling me?” Sloane thought about that for a very long time, long enough that the possibility was clearly edging toward fair to decent territory. “He wouldn’t…. I mean, why would he…?”
“He’s never left you to twist in the wind for something he’s done?”
“No!” He paused, the hesitation obvious. “Well, never for something major.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
He looked away, lips working into a genuine pout this time. I almost felt bad for him, but then I remembered he’d probably slept with me as a way of manipulating me, so then I felt irritated with him. He’d have to decide if he preferred a dead brother or a traitorous one.
We went to my office, because it had a computer that hadn’t been eviscerated by gunfire, and was closer than my apartment. For some reason, I kinda didn’t want him to see my place, but whether it was due to the fact that trouble seemed to be following him or the fact that it was just a fucking mess was up for debate.
My overhead light bulb blew out as soon as I flipped the switch, and the flash of light made Sloane jump and let out a frightened yelp. I turned on the light in the foyer outside my office and then turned on my desk lamp, so there was some light in the room before I shut the door. The light in the foyer came through the opaque glass that used to say Spencer & Falconer. “Don’t worry. If anyone was shootin’ at us, we’d never see the muzzle flash, just feel the shot.”
“Was that supposed to be comforting?”
“No, realistic.” The blinds were all closed, so it was unlikely any of the dim light in here was getting outside, but I was just gambling on the fact that at least one of the gunmen having a new hole in him was going to slow them down.
I plugged the bird-shaped flash drive into my computer, and we lucked out, as it wasn’t encrypted. There were lots of files on it, though, a hodgepodge of images, text files, and video files. The file names were random letters and numbers that may have meant something to Sander but seemed like gibberish to me. I started randomly clicking things, just to see what I could turn up.
First thing that turned up was naked pictures. Since I was looking at a dick and balls without context, I had to ask, “This ain’t your brother, is it?”
Sloane, who was pacing with his arms wrapped around him, came over to my relic of a computer screen to look. As soon as he did, he reared back, as if I’d offended his delicate sensibilities. “Fuck no. Sander manscaped, for one, and for another, he didn’t bend to the left like that.”
“Thought not, but I wanted to make sure.”
Despite his earlier offense, Sloane leaned down, looking over my shoulder, suddenly interested. “That’s what’s on the flash drive?”
“Porn seems so pedestrian now, doesn’t it?” A random sampling was revealing that the photo
Similar Books
