I Hear Voices Read Free

Uncle Aldo liberated the million dollar diamond necklace from the penthouse safe, I’d call the police with an anonymous tip about where they could find the stolen loot. Yep, room .
    I passed the wet bar and a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies drew me like a magnet. The Hilton did know how to treat its customers. I grabbed one and took a bite. Omigod! Could you have an orgasm from chocolate? I took another bite. Ooooh yeah.
    No sense in leaving them. I mean, guys weren’t into chocolate, right? Stuffing the cookie in my mouth, I grabbed the plate, opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
    The elevator doors dinged and Sloan strolled out. Holy shit! Talk about bad timing. I sucked in a deep calming breath. It’ll be okay. All he’ll see is an overweight Hispanic looking maid doing her job.
    Setting the plate of cookies on the cart, I pushed it calmly down the hallway.
    His cocky stride had me gritting my teeth.
    Macho creep.
    Sloan’s cold silver eyes zeroed in on the plate of cookies as he walked towards me. They were mine and there was no way he was getting his grimy paws on them.
    The top button on my shirt suddenly shot off like it had been propelled by a rocket launcher. I watched in horror as it smacked him right between the eyes. Omigod!
    Sloan stopped dead and stared at me. “Helping yourself to my cookies, sweetheart?”
    His sweetheart sounded more like a cuss word than an endearment.
    When I didn’t respond he added, “Do you know you have my chocolate on your mouth?”
    His chocolate? I quickly swiped at my lips. “Muy bien, senor.” I winced, my Mexican accent really sucked.
    Sloan’s gaze narrowed. “Do I know you?”
    “No comprende, senor.”
    “Those eyes, I’ve seen them before.”
    My pale violet eyes were a bit unique. “No comprende,” I repeated, pushing the cart faster.
    Another button rocketed off and whacked him in the nose. Sloan’s gaze settled on my ample cleavage. “What were you doing in my room, Angel?”
    Oh shit, I should have never worn that tank top. The angel shaped birthmark on my upper right breast was unforgettable and marked me as a demon slayer. “No hablas Ingles.”
    “The hell you don’t.” He grabbed for me.
    I shoved the plate of cookies in his face. He wanted them. He got ‘em.
    Sloan growled like a rabid pit bull and lunged at me.
    I ducked under his outstretched arms, slammed the cart into him and ran for my life.
    “You little bitch. You’re after the gold, too!”
    “Ya think?” One glance at the chocolate smeared predator on my ass and I went to plan B.
    Yanking the fire alarm, I dropped a smoke bomb and hauled ass down the stairs.
    I was wheezing like a stranded guppy when I finally made it to the parking lot. Twelve flights of stairs in less than five minutes had to be a record.
    Sirens wailing, several fire trucks and cop cars squealed to a stop in the front drive. A large crowd of panicked people poured out of the front doors.
    I’d say my diversion was a success.
    My calf muscles protesting loudly, I hobbled over to my gold Sonata and climbed in.
    The door to the staircase flew open and the enraged Tomb Raider barreled out.
    I waved all friendly like at him and started the engine.
    He mouthed, I will find you.
    Flipping him the bird, I mouthed back, not a chance.
    His fists clenched, Sloan sprinted towards me.
    Wow! That sucker could really run.
    I gunned it and roared out of the parking lot.
    Ha! I showed him. A smug look at the rear view
    mirror had me groaning. He was writing my license plate number down.
    Grabbing my cell phone, I dialed —. The line rang and rang and rang. To my horror an automated voice answered, “You have reached —. All the lines are busy. If you have a life threatening emergency, please stay on the line.”
    Good God, — had an answering machine.
    Were the budget cuts that bad?
    My cell phone snapped, crackled and went dead. Crap. I glanced over at the passenger seat and sure enough, there sat Granny