Cherry Bomb_ A Siobhan Quinn Novel - Caitlin R. Kiernan Page 0,9
door.
“I’m not going to ask you again,” I shouted.
“And I’ve got a gun,” Selwyn said.
I rolled my eyes.
The man in the hallway laughed. It was an ugly laugh, one that made me wonder if I’d misjudged his humanity. I leaned over and unzipped the gym bag. Just in case.
“We’ll be in touch, Ms. Smithfield,” he said. “We’ll be watching.” And he laughed that laugh again, and I heard his footsteps retreating to the stairwell.
Selwyn slumped against the door and smacked herself hard in the forehead. I walked over to her, took the revolver from her, and emptied the cylinder. I pocketed the six bullets and put the gun back into the cigar box. She didn’t lift a finger to try and stop me.
“But you can take care of yourself,” I said. “And last night, this had nothing at all to do with you being up shit creek with this Mr. Snow and needing someone to watch your back, did it?”
“Not entirely,” she said. She didn’t really seem upset that I was calling her on the ruse. Mostly, she seemed annoyed and maybe just a little embarrassed.
“Did I maybe neglect to mention how I’m no longer in the hired-hand business?”
“Quinn, no way you think last night . . . this morning . . . no way you can possibly believe that was all a put-on because I needed protection.”
“I don’t know, Ms. Smithfield. I’ve met some awfully good con artists. You tell me.”
“That’s not my real name.”
I made my way back past the sofa and the love seat to the room’s one window, which appeared to have been painted permanently shut quite some time ago. Out on the sidewalk, I watched a tall, thin man climb into the passenger seat of an idling black SUV with Massachusetts plates.
“Is it even Selwyn?” I asked her.
The SUV had already melted into the stream of traffic flowing downtown.
“Yeah,” she said. “Selwyn Throckmorton, just like I told you. Want to see my passport and driver’s license?”
“Not especially,” I replied, still watching the street. “But I am having serious second thoughts about sticking around. Whatever bind you’re in, I’ve got better things to do than get caught up in it myself.”
“Do you? Do you really, Quinn? What would that be? Lurking around the city, keeping an eye out for the next miserable man or woman willing to provide safe haven in return for the occasional hit off your carcass?”
I turned towards her. I’d say that I spun around, but I’ve always hated that phrase. Makes me think of whirling dervishes. I turned around very quickly. And very angrily. I felt the Beast rising, the loup swelling beneath my skin, ready to set my entire body and mind on fire. The Beast in me has a nasty habit of showing up when I’m really, really pissed, full moon or no, and suddenly I was really, really, really pissed.
“Little girl, you do not want to go there,” I said, and the words came out in sort of a half whisper and a half snarl. Every syllable was loaded down with threat. “Whatever the next words out of your mouth are going to be, you’re gonna want to choose them very goddamn carefully.”
So, there I stood with my back to the window, and there she stood with her back to that locked door. Probably there’s some sort of symbolism in that, but if so, I have no idea what it might be. Selwyn didn’t appear the least bit afraid, only stubbornly defiant, almost daring me, and that made me even more angry. The loup writhed and banged at the bars of its cage.
“I’m not sure just when you got the idea that I’m afraid of dying, Quinn.”
I took a step towards her, knocking over a stack of books in the process. Maybe she wasn’t afraid, but she jumped at the noise of them tumbling to the floor.
Don’t do it, you stupid bitch. Get a fucking grip and do not let that dog out to play.
Something like that went through my mind, again and again and again. The Beast strained at its raggedy leash.
I said, “Sorta thought you might be smart enough to possess at least a scrap of self-preservation. But maybe you’re only book smart.”
“And maybe,” she said, that sly, wicked smile of hers returning, “you have it all turned around backwards. Maybe, Siobhan Quinn, I just went out last night to find an interesting way to commit suicide. And here you are, unable to control yourself, about to