Rain Gods (Hackberry Holland 2)

He kept his eyes on hers and did not lower them to her body, but she could see the flicker of hunger around his mouth, the hollows in his cheeks, his suppressed need to lick his tongue across his bottom lip.

?You,? she said.

?Yes.?

?I hoped I would never see you again.?

?Worse men than I are looking for you, missy.?

?Don?t you talk down to me.?

?You don?t wonder how I got in??

?I don?t care how you got in. You?re here. Now you need to leave.?

?But that?s not likely, is it??

?By your foot.?

?What??

?What?s that by your foot??

He looked down at the carpet. ?This??

?Yes.?

?A twenty-two derringer. But it?s not for you. If I were a different sort of fellow, it might be. But it?s not.? He cupped his hand to lift his leg gingerly off his knee and set it down. ?You did me up proper on the highway.?

?I stopped to help you because I thought you had a flat. You repaid the kindness by trying to abduct me.?

?I don?t ?abduct? people, miss. Or Ms.?

?Excuse me. You kill them.?

?I have. When they came after me. When they tried to kill me first. When they were part of a higher plan that I didn?t have control over. Sit down. Do you want your bathrobe??

?I don?t have one.?

?Sit down anyway.?

She felt as if a hot coal had been placed on her scalp. Moisture was leaking out of the towel she had wrapped on her head. Her face stung, and her eyes burned. She could feel drops of sweat networking down her thighs like lines of ants. His eyes dropped to her loins, then he looked away quickly and pretended to be distracted by the noise the air conditioner made. She sat down at the small table against the wall, her knees close together, her arms folded across her chest. ?Where?s Pete?? she asked.

?He was rescued by a friend of mine.?

?Rescued?? She paused and said the word a second time. ?Rescued?? She could taste the acidity in her saliva when she spoke.

?Do you want me to leave without resolving our problem? Do you want to leave Pete?s situation undecided? He?s out there somewhere on a dark road in the hands of a man who believes he?s a descendant of Robert E. Lee.?

?Who are you a descendant of? Who the fuck are you??

The fingers of Preacher?s right hand twitched slightly. ?People don?t speak to me that way.?

?You think a mass killer deserves respect??

?You don?t know me. Maybe I have qualities you?re not aware of.?

?Did you ever fight for your country??