Accidental Affair
by
Leslie McKelvey
“Drive her on in, honey,” he said with a sweet smile. “Then we can close the doors and have us some privacy.”
Laine closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded and got back behind the
wheel. The Rover passed through the doors, from light into darkness,
from out in the open to hidden, alone, with him. The first fingers of
panic clutched at her heart. She took several deep breaths, then parked
and shut off the engine.
“Close the doors,” he said again. “Ain’t nobody going to see us way out here, but I prefer to err on the side of caution.”
When Laine exited the vehicle so did Mr. Clean. He moved to the side
as she walked past him. The next scene in this little drama played out
in her head as she pulled the barn doors shut. She wondered if she
could possibly pull off what she was thinking. Did she have even the
slimmest chance of getting the drop on a trained mercenary? Then again,
she didn’t have much choice but to try.
Laine had deliberately
left her car door open, and Mr. Clean stood to the left of it, one hand
resting on the top of the door frame. She swallowed hard and tried to
be as non-threatening as possible as she approached him. He watched her
out of the corner of his eye, and scowled when she leaned across the
driver’s seat to reach for her purse. Immediately the gun whipped
around and found a tender spot between her shoulder blades.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a deadly voice. “I said no funny stuff.”
“The keys to the cellar are in my purse,” she replied, holding her
hands up. “Unless you want to break down the door, we need them.”
It was nearly ten seconds before he spoke. “Fine, but watch yourself. One wrong move and it will be days before I kill you.”
Laine nodded mutely and reached for the purse. She took the strap with
her left hand, and put her right hand inside the bag. The gun was easy
to find since it was a lot bigger than a lipstick, and she wrapped her
fingers around the grip, flicking the safety off with her thumb. With
exaggerated slowness she backed out of the Rover and turned toward him.
He growled, grabbed the strap, and jerked the bag from her. Laine held
her breath.
“Give me those keys,” he said as he searched the
inside of her purse, the muzzle of his pistol angling toward the floor
as he did so. He never noticed the gun in her right hand. He didn’t
even notice it when she leveled it at his chest. Several seconds passed
before he froze, his eyeballs swiveling to look at the pistol.
Laine grit her teeth. “I know you wanted to . . . explore this
relationship,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “but I think
I’m going to have to kill you. Now.”
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