Friday Night in Beast House Read Free Page A

eyes!
    Trying to seem very casual, still bobbin his head just a bit, he glanced at the cop. He planned to cast the officer a friendly, uninterested smile then look away, but couldn’t.
    Holy shit!
    In the driver’s seat of the police car sat the most beautiful woman in town—and by far the most dangerous—Officer Eve Chaney.
    I thought she worked nights!
    Heart thudding, Mark gaped at her. Though he’d seen Officer Chaney a few times at night and admired her photo in the newspaper every so often, this was his first good view of her in daylight.
    My God, he thought.
    She turned her head and stared straight back at him as she slowly drove by.
    ‘Hi,’ he mouthed, but no sound came from his mouth.
    She narrowed her eyes, nodded, and kept on driving.
    Face forward, Mark kept on walking. His face felt hot. He was breathing quickly, his heart thumping.
    How’d you like to spend the night in Beast House with HER?
    The prospect of that was frightening but incredibly exciting.
    He suddenly felt guilty.
    Hearing a car behind him, he looked over his shoulder.
    Oh, jeez, here she comes!
    She drove slowly, swung to the curb and stopped adjacent to him. Her passenger window glided down. Mark bent his knees slightly and peered in.
    Beckoning him with one hand, Officer Chaney said, ‘Would you like to step over here for a moment?’
    ‘Me?’
    She nodded.
    Heart clumping hard and fast, Mark walked up to her passenger door, bent over and looked in.
    He’d never been this close to such a beautiful woman.
    But she’s a cop and I’m in trouble.
    He could hardly breathe.
    ‘Whats your name?’ she asked.
    ‘Mark. Mark Matthews.’
    ‘I’m Officer Chaney, Mark.’
    He nodded.
    Though this was October, Officer Chaney made him think of summer days at the beach. Her short hair was blowing slightly in the breeze that came in through the open windows of her patrol car. Her eyes were deep blue like a cloudless July sky. Her face was lightly tanned. The scent of her, mixed with the moist coolness of the fog, was like suntan oil.
    ‘How old are you, Mark?’
    He considered lying, but knew it was useless. ‘Sixteen.’
    She nodded as if she’d already known. ‘Shouldn’t you be in school?’
    ‘I guess so. I mean, I guess it all depends.’
    ‘How’s that?’
    ‘My mom called in sick.’
    ‘Your mother’s ill?’
    ‘No. I mean, she called in sick for me. So I’m officially absent today.’
    Officer Chaney turned slightly toward him, rested her right elbow on top of the seatback, and smiled with just one side of her mouth. Mark supposed it would be called a smirk. But it sure looked good on her. ‘So you’re staying home sick today?’
    ‘That’s right, officer.’
    ‘In that case, shouldn’t you be home in bed?’
    ‘Well…’
    He felt his gaze being pulled down to her throat, to the open neck of her uniform blouse, on a course that would soon lead to her chest. He forced his eyes upward, tried to lock them on her face.
    ‘Well?’ she asked.
    I can’t lie to her. She’ll see right through it!
    ‘The thing is, I’m not all that sick. And I’m a really good student anyway and Fridays at school are always pretty much a waste of time and it’s such a nice morning with the fog and all.’ He shrugged.
    Eyes narrowed slightly, she nodded. Then she said, ‘And there are such few and such morning songs.’
    Mark raised his eyebrows.
    ‘Fern Hill’, she said. ‘Dylan Thomas.’
    ‘Oh. Yeah. The guy who wrote ‘A Child’s Christmas in Wales’.
    This time, she smiled with both sides of her mouth. She nodded again and said, ‘Have a good day, Mark.’
    ‘Thank you, Officer Chaney. You too.’
    She looked away from him, so he quickly glanced at the taut front of her blouse before she took her arm off the seatback. Facing forward, she put both hands on the steering wheel.
    Mark took a step backward but remained bent over.
    Just when he expected her to pull away, she turned her head again. ‘Don’t do anything I