Garden of Stones - By Sophie Littlefield Page 0,78

such terrible pain.

“Please, I just want to get my job done.” Whispering now, giving away her fear.

“And you can in a minute. Hell, I’ll even leave you a good tip, how’s that?” He took his time looking at her, and she could feel his gaze traveling the surface of her face...then down across her dress and back up again.

“Why are you here?” she managed, swallowing.

“Gave up my apartment. I travel between the centers now. I’ll be heading down to Poston tonight.” There was a note of pride in his voice.

Reg reached out then, as though to offer his hand, and before Lucy could react he had rested it lightly on her waist. It hovered there for a moment and then slid down onto her hip, which he gripped more firmly. His hand was warm through the thin cotton of her dress.

“You want to know what the real tragedy is?” he said, his breathing going rapid and shallow. His fingers squeezed, kneading the flesh of her buttock, and Lucy laid her hand on his arm. She meant to push him away, but found she was shaking so hard that she could barely manage even a small shove.

“Please,” she whispered.

“You could have been someone, with a face like that.” His other hand settled on her shoulder, then quickly patted its way down her dress front, settling on her breast, which he squeezed. “You were a pretty girl, weren’t you,” he murmured, no longer looking at her face, but watching his hand squeezing. Lucy closed her eyes for a second and focused her fear, sucking in a breath, and then she released a sound like a balloon leaking air as she shoved him away with all her might.

“What’s the matter, don’t you like me?” Reg didn’t look offended, merely amused, as he stumbled away. He wiped a bit of shaving cream from his chin and tugged at his belt loops. “Maybe you’re like your mother—you don’t even know what you want. She was crazy, though. Beautiful lady, but...” Reg looped his finger at his ear and mugged at her. “I mean, George loved her. In his way.”

“He lied,” Lucy said hoarsely. “He said she stole.”

“That.” Reg chuckled. “Lovers’ quarrel. You’ll understand someday. When you’re older... Once a man gets done showing you how to be a woman.”

He reached for her again, this time sliding his hand inside the neck of her dress, deftly unbuttoning. His fingers found the edge of her camisole and slid inside before Lucy could react, but then she jerked backward, running into the chair for a second time and stumbling. Her hand closed on the chair back and then she went down, the chair tipping with her, and she was on her hands and knees crawling, so desperate was she to get away. She reached the door and grabbed the knob to pull herself up to her feet, her hands shaking.

“Aw, don’t go away mad,” Reg said, his voice full of merriment. “It was good to see you again, Lucy. Don’t forget me, hear?”

Lucy finally got the door open. She pushed it open and stumbled outside, into the blinding sun. There was her cart, so familiar she wanted to cry, and she grabbed its handle as the door closed softly behind her. She pushed the cart down the sidewalk, dirty water sloshing over the side of the mop bucket. Slow down, she had to slow down, or the thing would upend—its wheels were sprung and its balance was tricky. Her heart pounded and she sucked in air, coughing from the pollen; spring had arrived and tiny white petals drifted down from blooming trees. In the parking lot, a man shouted a greeting to another; people were arriving for lunch.

Lucy forced herself to slow down to a normal pace. Reg couldn’t do anything to her here. Not now, and she wouldn’t make that mistake twice, would not go into a room until she knew who was inside. She’d been caught off guard, that was all, but she would not allow him to frighten her.

She pushed the cart down the walk to another room and unlocked the door with her key. Inside, there were sodden towels on the floor, an ashtray overflowing, the remains of a sandwich on the desk. Half the bed linens had been pulled clean away from the bed and lay on the floor.

Lucy bolted the door and then, after a moment’s hesitation, pushed the chair under the knob. She pulled the drapes tight and turned on all