"George R. R. Martin - WC 8 - One Eyed Jacks" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R) file:///F|/rah/George%20R.%20R.%20Martin/Martin,%20George%20R.%20R%20-%20Wildcards%208%20-%20One%20Eyed%20Jacks.txt
Wildcards VIII: One Eyed JacksOne Eyed Jacks Book 8 of Wildcards Edited by George R.R. Martin ISBN: 0-553-28852-0 Nobody's Girl by Walton Simons The late-afternoon sunshine warmed them. She lay naked on the bed, hands folded on her stomach, eyes closed. He looked down the outline of her body, trying to hold on to the ecstasy and contentment he'd felt with her only moments before. But it was already slipping away. Women kept it a bit longer. Afterglow. But they lost it, too. "You could stay awhile," Jerry said. He tried to make the four words sound like it would be more fun than two people could stand. Not that they'd been pushing the limit in that area lately. "Nope." Veronica opened her eyes and sat up, her long, sweat-soaked brown hair plastered to her face and neck. Jerry hoped it was his technique and not the August heat seeping in. She waited a few seconds, then stood and walked into the bathroom, closing the door after her. "Call me a cab." "Okay, you're a cab." Jerry hadn't expected a laugh and wasn't disappointed. He heard her turn on the shower. He pulled on his shorts and walked across the carpeted floor into the next room. A five-hundred-dollar bill was in the top panties and matching underwire bra with cutout front. It was their ritual. Maybe she'd wear the lingerie next time, maybe not. He picked up the phone and paused for a second, stopping his finger from making a rotary motion. He hadn't adjusted to push buttons yet. Twenty-plus years as a giant ape could do that to you. A cold, sick feeling spread through him. Even Veronica couldn't help when it hit him. He tried hard to push the thoughts away, but that only made it worse when they finally broke through. The world had changed during those years, drastically and unalterably. His parents had moved to Pass Christian, Mississippi, and been killed in Hurricane Camille. Some idiot psychic had told them he'd been kidnapped and taken there. The bodies wound up in a tree three miles inland. All the time he was in Central Park Zoo, fifty feet tall and covered with hair. He bit his lip and punched in the numbers. "Starline Cab," said a bored voice on the other end of the line. "Thirteen East Seventy-seventh Street. A lady will be waiting." A pause. "That's Thirteen East Seventy-seventh. Five minutes. Thank you." Click. Jerry walked back into the bedroom and stretched out on the bed. The sunshine drove the cold from his skin, but not his insides. Veronica stepped out of the bathroom. She picked up her clothes and pulled them on in a quick, awkward manner. "It's not against the law for you to stay sometime," he said. "We could go out to dinner every now and then. Or a movie." "If it's not illegal, I don't bother with it." She turned her back on him to button her blouse. "Yeah." He rolled over on his stomach, not wanting her to see the pain on his |
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