"Bradley Denton - We Love Lydia Love" - читать интересную книгу автора (Denton Bradley)

тАЬAll right,тАЭ I tell Daniels. тАЬIтАЩm going. But I donтАЩt like it.тАЭ

Daniels grins again. тАЬShit, neither do I. But itтАЩs for her own good, and yours
too. If you werenтАЩt fucked in the head right now, youтАЩd know that.тАЭ

Come on. LetтАЩs get out of here.

I turn away from Daniels and walk off down the dark alley, abandoning Lydia
to herself. My boots crunch on the broken asphalt. A bat flies past my тАФ our тАФ
face, coming so close that we feel a puff of air from its wings.

Is Daniels right? Am I fucked in the head? In the soul, Christopher.

In the soul.

The stained-glass eye has become an open mouth surrounded by jagged teeth.
Blue shards cover the front step, and they make snapping sounds as I come up to
the door. I smell something burning. The stereo in the front room is blaring an old
thrash-metal number about a murder-suicide. My back teeth begin to ache again.

As I cross the foyer into the front room, I see what Lydia has done. The
picture windows have been broken, and the walls are pockmarked with holes. Some
of the holes seem to be the results of shotgun blasts, and some have been punched
with free-weight bars from the gym. The bars are still sticking out of some of these.

All of the furniture has been tom to pieces. The only things left intact are the
AV components, which are stacked on the floor in front of the fireplace. But the
cabinet that housed them is with everything else from the room -with everything else
from the entire house, I think. Everything has been broken, shredded, crumpled,
melted, or twisted, and then piled in the center of the room. A misshapen pyramid
reaches three-quarters of the way up to the ceiling.

Lydia, wearing the jeans and T-shirt from last nightтАЩs gig, is sitting atop the
pyramid and using a fireplace-lighter to burn holes into white cloth that used to be
drapes. She doesnтАЩt notice me until I cross the room and turn off the stereo.

тАЬChristopher,тАЭ she says, glancing at me with a distracted expression. тАЬYouтАЩre
back.тАЭ Her voice is thick. I wonder if sheтАЩs taken pills.

No. Her eyes are clear. She knows what sheтАЩs doing. If the shotgunтАЩs handy,
she might kill us now.

тАЬIтАЩm sorry I left last night,тАЭ I say, trying to think of a lie to explain myself.
тАЬDaniels told me it was my fault that you were playing a joint instead of an arena, and
I was afraid that if I stuck around I was gonna pop him. So I went for a walk, but
when I got back, you and the truck were gone. I tried to call, but my card wouldnтАЩt
work. And I couldnтАЩt find a cab that would bring me out here at night. So I stayed in
a motel.тАЭ

Too much. She wonтАЩt buy it.