Choke: A Thriller Read Free Page A

good.
    “But you need to get your head straight.  You need to believe that without a shadow of a doubt,” her coach insists.  “I thought you were supposed to be seeing that sports psychologist, to help you stay motivated and positive.”
    “I am seeing him,” Vicki says.  She suppresses a chuckle at the double meaning.
    “Well, whatever he's doing doesn’t look like it’s helping, to me.”
    Vicki smiles, this time unable to resist.
    “Quite the contrary, coach.  He’s helping me in a lot of different ways.”  She wanted to add, and a lot of different positions.
    He shrugs.  “All right, let's call it quits for the day.  Tomorrow, I want to start working on your toe-plant.  You're still not nailing it every time.”
    “Okay.”
    Vicki heads for the locker room.  She hops into the shower, thinking about her routine.  Vicki finishes up, then comes out of the shower and dries off, running the towel vigorously through her dark black hair and over her firmly muscled midsection.
    She puts her foot up on one of the wooden benches as she towels her legs, her taut muscles flexing in response to the movement.
    The thought of Vincent excites her.  She can’t wait to change and get back to her apartment.  She wants him to come over.  Tonight.

10.
    A man carrying a big, oversized duffel bag, a hockey stick, and a pair of ice skates slung over his shoulder enters the main doors of the building.  His head is down and the collar of his coat is turned up.  His face is not visible.
    The woman manning the front desk watches him pass.  She’s about to say something but the man clearly knows where he’s going and she figures he’s late for a practice.
    The door closes behind the man as he enters a stairwell and the woman goes back to her computer where she’s in the middle of an argument on a political website’s message board.

11.
    Vicki shrugs on her sweat-suit jacket and hoists her duffel bag over her shoulder.  She heads for the door, but stops in front of the mirror for a final check of her hair.
    The line of sweat is now gone, and she takes a moment to study her face.  Her skin is flawless, her eyes dark, and her lips are thin, but when she adds just the right amount of lipstick they look full enough to be sexy.
    She smiles again, and likes how she looks in the reflection.  For awhile, she had been under so much stress with the training and the expectation placed on her that dark circles had appeared under her eyes.  Those are gone now.  Vicki is sleeping better than ever and she knows the reason.
    His name is Vincent Keyes.

12.
    The man with the duffel bag and hockey stick has paused at the first landing of the stairs going down to the locker rooms.  From beyond the door, he hears the sound of a locker room door banging open and then closed.
    At the sound of the noise, the man walks quickly, heading down the stairs.  He reaches the bottom, just as Vicki opens the door.
    The man moves toward her and Vicki steps aside to let him pass, but with only a few feet between them, the man suddenly swings the fist that’s holding the handle of the hockey stick.  His blow catches Vicki flush on the jaw, and although the punch is a short one, it is powerful enough to make a bone-crunching sound in the silence of the stairwell.
    Vicki drops to the floor.
    The man sets down his duffel bag, zips it open, easily lifts Vicki and stuffs her petite body into the oversized bag designed to hold an abundance of hockey gear.  He hoists the bag over his shoulder and walks back up the stairs.
    He carries the bag with Vicki inside to his car, pops open the trunk, and throws everything inside.  The duffel bag lands with a loud thud.
    The man shuts the trunk, and gets in the driver's seat.
    He drives away from the training facility.  Only when he’s back on the main highway does he allow himself to take a deep breath.

13.
    Vincent Keyes, driving a new, tan Mercedes, pulls up in front of his ex-wife’s house.  He