Cross (Alex Cross 12)

“Not too far,” said Michael Sullivan. “Miss.”

“Not too far?” questioned Marianne. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll see. No worries. Trust me.”

She laughed, pecked him on the cheek, and laughed some more. “Now how could I resist those killer eyes of yours?”

Chapter 5

MARIANNE WAS THINKING THAT she didn’t really want to resist this cute guy from New York City. Besides, she was safe inside the bar on M Street. What could go wrong in here? What could anybody try to pull? Play a New Kids on the Block tune on the jukebox?

“I don’t much like the spotlight,” he was saying, leading her toward the back of the bar.

“You think you’re another Tom Cruise, don’t you? Does that big smile of yours always work? Get you what you want?” she asked.

She was smiling too, though, daring him to bring his best moves.

“I don’t know, M.M. Sometimes it works okay, I guess.”

Then he kissed her in the semidarkened hallway at the back of the bar, and the kiss was as good as Marianne could have hoped, kind of sweet actually. Definitely more on the romantic side than she’d expected. He didn’t try to cop a feel along with the kiss, which might have been all right with her, but this was better.

“Whooo.” She exhaled and waved a hand in front of her face like a fan. It was a joke, only not totally a joke.

“It is a little hot in here, isn’t it?” Sullivan said, and the coed’s smile blossomed again. “A little close, don’t you think?”

“Sorry—I’m not leaving with you. This isn’t even a date.”

“I understand,” he said. “Never thought you would leave with me. Never crossed my mind.”

“Of course not. You’re too much of a gentleman.”

He kissed her again, and the kiss was deeper. Marianne liked that he didn’t give up too easily. It didn’t matter, though—she wasn’t going anywhere with him. She didn’t do that, not ever—well, not so far anyway.

“You are a pretty good kisser,” she said. “I’ll give you that.”

“You’re holding up your end,” he said. “You’re a great kisser actually. That was the best kiss of my life,” he kidded.

Sullivan pushed his weight against a door—and suddenly they were stumbling inside the men’s room. Then Jimmy Hats stepped up to watch the door from the outside. He always had the Butcher’s back.

“No, no, no,” Mari

anne said, but she couldn’t keep from laughing at what had just happened. The men’s room? This was pretty funny. Crazy funny—but funny. The kind of stuff college kids did.

“You really think you can get away with anything, don’t you?” she asked him.

“The answer is yes. I pretty much do what I want, Marianne.”

And suddenly he had a scalpel out, the gleaming razor-sharp blade not far from her throat, and everything changed in a heartbeat. “And you’re right, this isn’t a date. Now don’t say a word, Marianne, or it will be your last on this earth, I swear on my mother’s eyes.”

Chapter 6

“THERE’S ALREADY BLOOD on this scalpel,” the Butcher said in a throaty whisper meant to scare her out of her wits. “You see it?”

Then he touched his jeans at the crotch. “Now this blade won’t hurt so much.” He brandished the scalpel in front of her eyes. “But this one will hurt a lot. Disfigure your pretty face for life. I’m not kidding around, college girl.”

He unzipped his jeans and pressed the scalpel against Marianne Riley’s throat—but he didn’t cut her. He lifted up her skirt, then pulled aside her blue panties.

He said, “I don’t want to cut you. You can tell that, can’t you?”