Choke: A Thriller Read Free Page B

gets out of the car, walks around the front, and opens the front passenger door for his daughter.
    They walk toward the front door where Bonnie waits.
    “Mommy, I beat Dad at miniature golf!” Annabel announces.
    “Really?” Bonnie says.  “A little girl like you beating the big sports psychologist?”
    “I did! I did!”
    Bonnie smiles at Vincent.  “What happened?  Did you lose your focus?”
    He laughs.  “I was doing fine until that damn windmill.”
    “You've got to pretend it isn't there, Dad,” Annabel points out.
    “And that big beaver?” Vincent says.  “Are you going to tell me you blocked that out, too?”
    “It was a chipmunk.”
    “I think it was a beaver.”
    “Since when do beavers have stripes?”
    “Good point,” Vincent admits, smiling.
     
    He grabs Annabel, picks her up, and starts kissing her neck, and she squirms under the barrage of tickles.
    “Annabel, come on in, it's time for dinner,” Bonnie says.
    “Dad's taking me to the opera next week.”
    “Oh, really?”
    “Sure, putt-putt one day, then opera the next,” Vincent says.  “It’s important to be well-rounded.”
    “Let's hope there aren't any chipmunks there,” Annabel teases.
    Vincent sets his daughter down and she races toward the house.
    “See ya' Friday, Bell.”
    “Bye Dad.”
    Vincent watches her scamper inside the house and when he looks up, he catches Bonnie appraising him.
    “You look good, Vincent.”
    “You too Bonnie.”
    “Yeah, right,” she says, looking down at her worn jeans and sweatshirt.
    “You do.  You go easy on the eye, you always have, and don't pretend you don't know it.”
    “What, do you want a quickie before you go back to the office?” she says.
    “You know I could never say no to you.”
    “You could never say no to any halfway-decent-looking woman, that was the problem.”  Her face has taken on an edge, and the humor in her voice is gone.
    “Bonnie.”
    Behind Bonnie, a man appears.  He is dark-haired with a square jaw and a five o'clock shadow that looks like it's been there since morning.
    “Come on honey, the food's getting cold,” he says, then stops.
    “Rodney, this is Vincent,” Bonnie says.  “Vincent, this is Rodney.”
    “Hi Rodney.”
    He starts to move toward the door as if to shake hands, but then Rodney speaks.
    “Go on in, Bon,” Rodney says.
    “What time are you picking her up on Friday?” she asks Vincent as she puts her hand on the door handle.
    “Six-thirty.”
    “All right.”
    “Go on.  I want to ask Doc about the Lakers this year,” Rodney says.
    She looks uncertainly between the men, then goes inside.
    Rodney watches, and as soon as he's satisfied that she can't hear, he turns to Vincent.
    “I just want you to know that Bonnie and I have something special.”
    Vincent looks Rodney in the eye.
    “I know you messed around on her all the time you were married, so don't come back trying to be something you're not,” Rodney says.  He has his hands on his hips.
    “Let's get something straight, Rodney.  I will never attempt to re-join this family.”
    Rodney looks satisfied to hear this.
    “Because I'll never leave this family.  I am that girl's father.  And I always will be.”  Vincent pauses.  “Maybe you should take your own advice,” he says.
    “What's that?”
    “Don't try to be something you're not.  And never will be.”
    Vincent walks back to the car and Rodney goes into the house without saying a word.

14.
    The oversized wooden door is kicked open.  The man walks inside and looks around to make sure nothing has changed since he last visited.
    It hasn’t.
    The building is an abandoned gymnasium with none of the athletic equipment remaining.  No basketball hoops, scoreboard, or bleachers.  Everything is gone.  It is now the kind of space that a fashion photographer would choose for a studio:  old brick walls, ancient wooden beams, a scarred wood floor.
    The man leaves, then returns with the oversized hockey