Collateral Damage Read Online Free PDF

underestimate me. I hid the laces under the pillow, and then rested my head on it. There was no way I could sleep with my whole body tense, waiting for them to make the next move. But I would wait. They'd make a mistake. And I'd be ready.

Chapter Four
    Spices I didn't have names for, the kind used for steaks and roast beef. A sizzling sound, and my mouth watered. Oh, how I loved red meat. My eyes rolled back a little behind my closed lids. I wasn't really asleep; I'd just dozed off a bit on a mat. Naptime for the little ones.
    Amanda poked me. "Come on, lazy. I made you something for lunch."
    I gave her a sleepy smile. "I brought a sandwich."
    "I threw it out," she said. "You're too old for PB and J. You need real food."
    Sounded so much like something my mother would say. Both my mother and Amanda were the kind of women who thought food equaled love. Only Amanda had more to give.
    "I'm not that hungry." I groaned and rolled away from her.
    The mat was softer, somehow cushion-y rather than stiff. A mild fabric softener scent instead of disinfectant solution.
    "You will eat now."
    I jolted, suddenly alert and aware of where I was. Not at the daycare with Amanda. In a room. Alone with Vince.
    And Amanda's gone. Because of him and his friends.
    My answer didn't change, but, this time, I was serious. "I'm not hungry."
    The very idea of food made me want to throw up. Something that could be given or taken on a whim. I'd gotten used to eating what I wanted, when I wanted.
    And I'd lost that control again.
    "What purpose would it serve if you get sick?" Vince left the plate of food on the table and came to the bed. Hands braced on the metal frame, he studied me as though I presented an interesting puzzle. "Was any of your concern for the boy real? Have your tactics changed now that you've figured out your place in all this?"
    "My place?" All at once, the rage within bubbled and spit like a thick soup on a red-hot burner. "My place! Who the fuck do you think you are? I could have run away after I popped out your buddy's eyeball."
    "Why didn't you?"
    "I couldn't leave Amanda—who's still lying in that alley—"
    "She was already dead. She bled out quickly," he said, cold and clinical as a coroner. "And she's no longer in the alley."
    "Then where is she?"
    "That doesn't concern you. And you still haven't answered my question. Why didn't you run away?"
    "Because I couldn't leave the boy. I considered it, for a split second, but I couldn't do it."
    "You're a strange animal, Nicole." His lips quirked. "Your protective nature overrules your survival instincts. I like that."
    "You think I care what you—?" I laughed. Of course. That's exactly what he thinks .
    "Get over yourself. You're just another goon. Don't believe for one second that I am not perfectly aware who's in charge. Cyrus is the one I need to suck up to if I want to be left alone."
    "I'd like to see you try." He chuckled and shook his head. "Cyrus won't leave you alone, and neither will I. But you will find your situation bearable if you avoid playing games and do as you're told."
    "I haven't been told to do anything."
    "I told you to eat."
    Stupid! Just do it! But I couldn't. I caught myself circling my thumb over the pad of my middle finger, a strange twitch I'd developed as a kid. I forced myself to stop and flattened my hands at my sides on the mattress. "You did. But I'll eat when I'm hungry."
    "You must be . . . ." He frowned, seemed confused. "You skipped lunch. And you enjoy steak, cooked exactly like this." He gestured towards the table. "Why refuse such a simple request?"
    I had the strangest urge to cry. The threats had been perfectly clear. If I disobeyed, I would pay. I was hungry. Eating the food he'd brought would be such a simple concession. But I couldn't do it.
    "Because I can." I drew myself up, sitting ramrod stiff, prepared for whatever way he chose to punish me. "Ask anything else, and I'll consider. But if you plan to use food as a bargaining chip,