WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (70 page)

CLAIRE

C
leavage
riding high! 

How could he resist me?
  Freshly plucked and
shaved, in a push-up bra, skinny jeans, heels, a slinky top and open jacket,
Claire climbed into her car and drove the short distance to Brian’s house.

It was approaching two hours since he’d left her home. 
Surely he’d be back from his parents’ by now and getting ready for his
meeting?  He certainly wasn’t at Christa’s house.  She’d not seen a
peep of him through the feed on the website.  And she’d been
watching.  Carefully.  And wondering why some of the cameras had
misted up. 

Christa.

Anger and upset raged in her belly like great, leaping
flames at the thought of that bitch’s name.  She’d have to contain her
emotions if she wanted to charm her way back into Brian’s pants. 

There were no cameras in Brian’s house.  Dale had
forbidden it, no doubt not wanting to view his sister’s naked bum on the
web.  To her surprise, the
elusive
person in charge didn’t
protest. 

And now, thankfully, her brother would not be able to
witness her seducing Brian.

But if her charms failed, she’d give her brother the nod to screw
up Brian’s life, his meeting, or whatever.  God knew what Dale had in
mind, but she needed something to extinguish her anguish.

She turned into Brian’s street and spotted his courtesy
car.  Yes! He’s home.  She halted her car on the street a mere inch
behind Brian’s.  She applied a final good-luck sweep of pink gloss to her
lips, pouted in the mirror then tottered, slipping and sliding in her five inch
stilettos in snow to his front door. 

Brian just needed to be reminded of how good they were
together, how much he needed her, how wild and exciting the sex was.  She
smoothed her hair to one side exposing more of the neck he so loved to nibble
and kiss.  She pressed the bell and waited.

The door opened.  Brian appeared, smartly dressed in a
slick black suit with a slice of toast in hand, chomping.

Claire flashed him her flirtiest, lottery-winner’s
smile.  “Hey, there,” she said, softly.

“Oh, um...  Hi.”  He glanced over his
shoulder.  “Sorry, Claire.  I’m kinda busy.”

Her smile collapsed, but she fought to keep it in
place.  “Eating lunch?  I wouldn’t call that being busy.”  She
ached to touch him, run a hand down his chest.  “I can’t leave things like
this, Brian.  It’s killing me.  We need to talk.”

He swallowed and his gaze bounced around.  “I’m sorry,
Claire.  I just don’t know what you want me to say.”

She traced her fingertips down the doorframe, eyes fastened
on his roaming ones.  “I want you to say that you love me, drag me into
the house and tear these clothes off my body.”

Brian sighed and rubbed his temple with a buttery
finger.  “That’s not going to happen.  I thought I made myself clear
earlier and...”  A phone beeped.  “Hold on.”  Brian reached into
his coat hanging near the door, then pulled his mobile out of its pocket. 
He looked at the screen then stared at Claire.  “You texted Christa and
had a go at her?”

“Snitch,” she muttered, snorting out a breath. 
Christa’s sickly pretty face flashed into her mind, heightening her
jealousy.  “Look, I know you only dumped me because of her.  But she won’t
satisfy you the way I can.  Why can’t you see that?  Quite frankly,
I’ve seen more sex appeal in a wet dishcloth.”

He pointed a warning finger.  “Enough!”

“The closest she gets to bedroom athletics lately is dancing
in the buff.”  Claire’s jealous ranting gushed out of her mouth like water
from a tap.  She couldn’t stop the flow.  “The woman’s a joke on
stick legs!  Hell, she can barely boil an egg.”

Brian tried to turn her away from the door.  “How dare
you!”

Claire stood fast, feet pressing hard into the ground. 
No matter how much she tried, the fury she so wanted to suppress kept bubbling
to the surface.  “She’ll never cook a decent meal for you like I
can.  She can’t...”

“Stop it!” Brian yelled, throwing a palm up.  “Christa
isn’t to blame here.  I’ve already explained this to you.  We’ve had
fun, Claire, but there’s no future for us.  We’re simply not compatible.”

“We are!”

“Don’t contact Christa again.”  He glanced at his phone
once more, shifted on his feet then thumped the wall by the door.  “Jesus,
woman!  What the hell’s wrong with you?”

A paralysing sadness gushed through her.  Claire
grabbed the wall to steady herself.  Her eyes moistened with regret. 
She’d pushed the wrong buttons.  Blown it.  Time to change tact,
don’t mention Christa.  “I’m sorry.  I just...  Please. 
You can’t end things like this.”  She reached a hand out to caress his
face. 

I love you.  I’m yours.  Kiss me. 

“What we have is special, Brian.”  Desperate to coax a
glimmer of love into his eyes, she curled her hand around his neck and thrust
up on tiptoes, trying to force his lips to meet hers.

His hand circled her wrist, and then he eased her
away.  “No, Claire.  What we have... is over.”  He stood rigid
in the doorway, a pissed-off expression cemented on his face. 

Claire had gone too far.

“I don’t enjoy hurting you,” Brian said.  “But you have
to accept the way I feel.  Please leave.”

Tears tumbled freely.  Claire jammed her foot in the
door to prevent him closing it.  “I love you,” she said, her voice
breaking around a sob.  “You can’t leave me.”  She wiped her face and
deepened her voice, her dark side winning yet again.  “I won’t let you.”

Brian’s lips pressed into a firm line.  “It’s not your
choice.  Now please, move your foot, go home and calm down.”

“No.” 
How can I walk away?   I love you.

Brian tussled her foot with his, then tried to shut the
door.  “This is insane.  Why would you want to be with someone who
doesn’t love you back, huh?

Claire, hurt and stunned into silence, couldn’t answer that.

“I have to get ready for my meeting.”

Claire placed a palm flat on the door and pushed
inwards. 

The edge of the door clipped Brian above his left eye. 
“Ouch.”  He cupped his forehead.  “What did you do that for?”

“Christa doesn’t love you like I do.”  Tears trickled
into her mouth, her nose streamed.  Her soft and flirty plan to win him
back...
Oh, going terribly wrong.
  For fuck’s sake!  Why
wouldn’t her bloody mouth or body listen to her brain?  Softly,
softly.  Claire took a breath of composure.  When she raised her eyes
to Brian’s, once again, anger plunged into her.  “She only pretends to
care so that you’ll babysit that... that little brat of hers.” 
Oh,
shit.  I’ve done it again.

Brian jerked.  His face erupted molten red. 
“Brat?  How dare you call Sarah such names!  She’s like a daughter to
me.” 

His words spread through her veins like poison.  He
could never know the truth.  Ever.

He snatched his keys off the wall hook near the door and
grabbed his briefcase.  “I’m not going to listen to anymore of this. 
I need a straight head for my meeting.  If you won’t leave, I will, before
we both say or do something we can’t take back.”  Pulling his coat on over
his suit one-handed, he shot out of the house and slammed the door, his back to
her.

Claire spun and grabbed him, pulling his sleeve down to his
elbow. 

Brian’s keys and phone clattered to the ground.  After
jostling free of Claire’s grasp, he snatched up the keys.  Muttering
profanities, he dashed to his car, coat tail flapping.

Quickly, Claire bent to retrieve his mobile, shocked but
delighted he hadn’t seen he’d dropped it.  After pocketing it, she
tottered unsteadily on her high heels after him.  “Where are you
going?  Come back.  I’m not finished.”

“This.”  Brian indicated to himself and Claire before
getting into his car and sitting.  He finished in a controlled, even
tone.  “It isn’t healthy.”

Claire stopped moving.  Silence.  A tangible chill
hung in the air between them, until Claire lurched forward and raced to the
side of his car.  After grabbing his open door, she slapped her other hand
down on the frosted bonnet and glowered through the driver’s edge of the
windshield.  “You’re gonna drive to
her
house, aren’t you?”

“No.  I’ve got an appointment to keep.”  He
uncurled her fingers and shut the door.  ‘Fuck,’ he mouthed through the
window, agitation etched across his face.  The engine roared to
life. 

A suffocating darkness pressed in around her.  “Am I
supposed to just vanish from your life?  Not even try to win you back from
her?”

“Yes.  And Christa has nothing to do with this. 
It was over between us before I even laid one finger–”  He stopped,
flattening his lips into a line.

“I knew it!”  Jealousy and rage clashed within forming
a potent cocktail.  “Something
did
happen between you and that
bitch.  I should have realised Steph was hiding something else!” 

“Something else?  What’s she’s been saying?”

Claire bent her knee and kicked his door, scratching
it.  Then pound after pound, she pummelled the bonnet of his car until
pain shot up her forearm and the metal dented.  She broke into a sob.

“Oi!” Brian yelled, then honked his horn.  “Do that
again and I’ll have you arrested!” 

She booted the wheel arch.  Her stiletto heel snapped
inward.

Brian brought his handsome face closer, the window squashing
his nose.  “Read my lips... it’s over.  Now go home and cool off.”

Claire’s leaden heart twisted.  She wanted to ram those
torturous words down his throat, and then down Christa’s. 

His jaw clenched repeatedly.  “I’ve tried to be nice,
but nice isn’t working.  I’ve had it with you.  You’re out of your
mind.” 

“Go on then.”  She stumbled on her broken stiletto
heel.  “Go fuck the bitch and find out what she’s really like!”

He flipped his middle finger.  “Go swivel on this.” 

Claire punched the driver’s side window and hurled such an
arsonry of profanities at him that it dried her words to a crisp. 

The pissed-off look came back on Brian’s face full
force.  He put the car into gear and nosed forward, waiting for a stream of
traffic to clear his way.

She ran to her car parked tight behind his and climbed
in.  Breathing through flared nostrils, she slumped over the steering
wheel.  Whatever connection was left between them... well, she’d severed
it now.

Brian would have to pay for breaking her heart. 
Yes.  Phone her brother, then sit back and watch Brian’s life crumble into
hell. 

No. 

Oh, crap.  Her fingers squeezed the wheel, unsure she
could give the command. 
What the fuck is wrong with me?
  Why did
Brian affect her so badly?  Maybe she should just ram his car and then he
wouldn’t be able to drive anywhere.

Claire took a deep breath to focus, then raised her head.

Brian inched his car forward ready to pull out, and
something beyond the exhaust fumes caught Claire’s eye. 

Just then, he pulled away from the kerb revealing a large
object positioned beneath his car.  Claire blinked hard, did a double
take.  As he crossed the central line to the left lane, the object jerked
into motion on the ice.

“What the fuck?”  Claire leaned forward, stared
harder. 

A person strapped on their back to a plastic sledge shot
along the frozen road behind Brian’s car, pulled along by rope.  She
glimpsed short dark hair and red trainers before it picked up speed. 
Definitely an adult.  A man?

“Jesus!”  In a wave of panic, Claire beeped the horn
numerous times. 

Brian neither slowed nor stopped. 

With wildly shaking hands, she turned the key in the
ignition and screeched up the road in his tracks.  Oh, hell. 

The sledge, on about three metres of rope, slid fluidly from
side to side over the frozen tarmac.   Claire put her foot down and
caught up, leaving a gap between them for the slipping and sliding sledge.

A car travelled down the opposite lane, beeping frantically
as it passed. 

As Brian rounded a curve in the road, the sledge flew out to
the right and flipped over.

Claire winced seeing the body get torn up by the road,
painting a waving trail of blood and matter in the snow. 

It flipped upright again. 

An arm flopped out to the side, banging and bouncing along
the ice.  Claire gagged as rising bile burned her throat, but she managed
to keep control of her steering in a white-knuckle grip.  “Who the hell is
that?” 

Swerving left and right, honking on the horn like a
madwoman, Claire decided to overtake Brian and force him to stop.  She
pushed down harder on the accelerator and steered right to cross the central
line.  On another bend, Brian slowed down.  The sledge swung out and
crossed her path.  Claire’s car bumped over something.  Oh,
crap!  Had her front wheel caught the edge of the sledge, or a foot? 
She eased off the gas until the sledge came into view.  It slid back in
position behind Brian’s car on the straight.

Claire honked again.  “Idiot!  Why won’t he stop?” 
Deciding to go for it again, she sped up and crossed the central road markers
again.  Coming up alongside his car, she waved frantically through the
passenger window to indicate ‘slow down’.  Then a car came travelling
toward her.  “Oh, hell.”  She stomped on the brake.  Her back
end slid out.  Every muscle tightened as she snaked into the left lane
behind the sledge, squeezing the wheel in a jolt of fright.  She slid to a
stop sideways, striking the kerb.

Brian sped ahead.  The distance between their cars
widened.

Breathing heavy, Claire shoved the gear stick into first and
accelerated to catch up. 

But then, abruptly, Brian’s brake lights spread their red
glow along the ice.