Lethal Confessions Read Free Page A

guy was pretty buff.
    He set the case and the water down.
    “You stink,” he said. “It’s a good thing I put that plastic underneath the sheet.”
    He was a pretty normal looking guy, but his blank expression terrified her. “Wha…what do you want?” she croaked.
    He stood beside the bed, level with her chest, and stared down at her breasts for what seemed like a full minute. “I want you to pull yourself together long enough for us to have a conversation,
Mrs.
Noble
.”
    She inhaled deeply, as if the extra air could give her courage, and steeled herself. “I... I’ll try.”
    “Good.” Poole smiled down at her, but the thin smile didn’t reach his eyes. Those eyes, a muddy gray-green, shifted constantly over her body.
    Bile rose in her throat, but she had to encourage him. She had to kill time. “If you want me, go ahead,” she said, fighting the quaver in her voice. “I won’t fight you.” As if she could, anyway.
    He frowned, as if disgusted. But then he smoothed his right hand across her stomach. She couldn’t help clenching her muscles in response.
    He gave her a derisory snort and cupped a breast. This time she forced a half-smile and got a quirk of his lip in return. He rubbed his palm over her nipple, played with it for a moment, then pinched it hard.
    She yelped, more from fear than pain.
    That made him grin. “Your body is sure beautiful. I can see why Matt wanted you.”
    She gritted her teeth but kept smiling.
    He pulled his hand away. “But I don’t fuck whores.”
    Oh, God.
He’d been watching her. A flash of anger made its way through her fear. “Whore? Why would you call me that? I don’t understand.”
    Poole snorted, his brief grin disappearing. “Lying bitch. You’ve been fucking that asshole. Don’t try to deny it.” He pinched the other nipple, and this time it really hurt. She grimaced, but managed to stifle a cry.
    “You get off by cheating on Matt, don’t you?”
    No!
The sex meant nothing to her. She was just frustrated and lonely. “That’s not true! I love Matt.” She swallowed hard, her throat dry as desert sand. “What’s it got to do with you, anyway?”
    The words weren’t out of her mouth before her frantic brain made the connection. “Oh, Jesus, did Matt put you up to this?” she screeched.
    Poole’s hard palm smashed into her cheek. Her neck cracked and her face slammed down into the bed despite the tight collar. Searing pain lanced through her head as it snapped back from the slap. The hard leather bit again into the delicate skin of her neck.
    “Of course he didn’t, you stupid cow. I’m sure he loves you, though I sure as hell don’t understand why, since you’re a total whore and a nagging bitch. And don’t ever say again that you love Matt. If you did, you’d have been a good wife to him.”
    Every instinct told Carrie to curl up into a ball and whimper. But she could barely move. The crazy son of a bitch was right about one thing, though. Matt would never hurt her. He was soft. Too soft. That was the whole trouble. She’d thought she married a guy with more than just talent. Matt was supposed to be a guy who’d work hard and do whatever it took to make it big. It turned out that he had a ton of raw talent, all right, but zero fire in his belly. No way was he going to become the star she’d thought he would be.
    She didn’t answer Poole’s accusation, because that part was true, too.
    “I bet you could use a drink of water,” he said in a low voice.
    “Yes, water, please,” she managed. “My throat is shot.” She decided to take a risk. “And do you think maybe you could take off this collar? I can’t go anywhere, and it really hurts.”
    In truth, everything hurt, her jaw more than anything right now.
    Poole unscrewed the cap from the Dasani bottle. “Poor little Carrie. Carrie’s not used to hurting. Carrie’s used to having everything her own way, isn’t she?” He spoke as if she were a little child.
    She stared at him.