"Yvonne Navarro - One Among Millions" - читать интересную книгу автора (Navarro Yvonne)

dozen boxes to be filled and checked off before he could leave for his next coffee
shop appointment.
Sondra swallowed. Careful now, she warned herself. Be very, very careful. "I-I've
seen him following us before."
The younger policeman's attention picked up. "How many times?"
"Twice," she said. "Once when I took the children to the clinic, and once when
we were out for a walk."
"So he knows where you live?"
Walters's voice had sharpened, but instead of feeling vindicated, Sondra had the
urge to slap him. Why should she have to lie to get them to protect her? Because
being stalked once or twice was okay, but the magical number three was not. "I'm
afraid to go out any more."
"Tell us about the other two times," McShaw said.
Abruptly Sondra stood. "Would youтАж like some coffee?" she asked shakily.
"I'm going to pour myself a cup."
"If it's no trouble." The older policeman looked at her speculatively.
"None at all." She walked to the door of the nursery and checked inside before
pulling it shut. Mallory and Meleena were settling down for a nap within the netted
confines of the playpen, their soft, chubby bodies curled around each other like
well-fed kittens. The door firmly closed, she turned back to the men waiting on the
couch. "Sugar? Cream?"
"Black is fine," Walters said. "For both of us."
Sondra nodded and hurried to the kitchen, fumbling out mismatched mugs from
one of the cabinets and making sure none of the nasty cockroach egg casings were
stuck to the bottom. The insects in this place were a terrible problem and she didn't
want to be embarrassed, but what could she expect from a place of hiding, a place
of exile? The coffee was too strong from sitting on the burner since this morning and
she didn't really want any, but she needed time to gather her thoughts so she didn't
screw up the story. Her claim of seeing the man who hunted her and her babies by
the clinic had been a lie, but Sondra could gloss that over by saying she'd only had a
glimpse of him then; they might write that sighting off, but they might not. Saying he
knew where they lived was the truth, as was telling that he trailed after them every
time she stepped out of the house, a spectre of living hunger that was impossible to
deny.
Her knees went suddenly weak and she leaned against the counter for support.
Would any of this do any good? Perhaps she would have to run again, flee in an
endless, exhausting effort to give her babies a normal life. Dear God, would he never
let them be?
Without warning his mocking, cruel chuckle filled her mind and the memory of his
frigid hands sliding over her skin made her flush:
"Open your legs."
"No!"
His eyes were black, his gaze oddly sprinkled with yellow glitter, like a reflection
of a midnight sky swollen with stars. His fingers, tipped with nails sharp enough
to split her skin, scraped along the insides of her thighs. His touch made her veins
throb with need.
"Bear my children."
"Let me go!" she cried. She cursed him, then damned her own body as her thin
knees began to spread. Lying against the black sheets, her limbs were like the
petals of a pale lily unfolding to float upon an onyx ocean.