Deceived Read Online Free PDF Page B

dull, gray eyes.
    “Answer me,” Slezak said.
    Oh dear God , help me . Mac could feel it coming on again, one of the rages. Mac felt like the grip of rage was an enemy combatant. Pastor Jon told him the enemy was Satan.
    Mac was beginning to think Satan was really one Gordon Slezak.
    “I said, ‘Answer me,’ ” Slezak said.
    Mac fell to his knees, grabbing his head as he went down.

    Red blood on buff-colored rocks. As if a child had spilled paint on a light brown surface.
    That was the first thing Liz thought of. She wanted it to be paint, not blood that came from Arty’s head.
    Arty’s body was facedown, legs splayed, twenty feet below the blood stain. A larger, darker blotch spread outward from his motionless head.
    Maybe he could be saved. She could call 911 and . . . wait . . . there was no phone. She’d broken it. And by the time she got back to the house and made the call he’d be gone.
    She could go down there and see if he was breathing, maybe put something around the wound to stanch the blood.
    Or . . .
    She looked around and listened. No one.
    Time to think fast. Time to take control. Fully now. No one to tell her what to do or how to do it or when.
    Keep moving .

    “Get up.”
    Slezak’s voice, from a distance.
    No, from above. Mac looked up. He felt like his head had been worked over by a nail gun. He must have fallen from the pain.
    “I got to take something,” Mac said. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was sweating.
    “Get off the floor,” Slezak said.
    Mac could only see immediately in front of him, as if staring through a small hole in a fence.
    Enough to get to the bathroom.
    “Where do you think you’re going?” Slezak said, his voice behind Mac now.
    Mac ignored him. Shoot me in the back if you want to. It’ ll be a relief.
    He got to the mirrored medicine cabinet, opened it, found the Vicodin. It was in his hand.
    Then snatched away.
    “What’s this now?” Slezak said.
    “I got a prescription,” Mac said.
    “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Slezak stepped out of the bathroom.
    “You can’t take those,” Mac said.
    “I wasn’t told about this,” Slezak said. “No, no, no. You can’t be taking narcotics now, huh? I’ll have to check with the doc about this. If it’s cleared, you’ll get these back. But not before then. May take a few weeks.”
    The bits of metal in Mac’s head felt like they were shifting around. He grabbed his head and squeezed, then dropped to his knees on the bathroom floor. Tears from the pain continued to spill out. The desire to kill Slezak swelled so strong he could hardly fight it. He clenched his teeth to will it away but lost any capacity for will.
    The front door slammed. Mac staggered to his feet and got to the window. Peeked out and saw Slezak driving away.
    Back in the bathroom, he found aspirin, poured five into his hand and threw them into his mouth. He took water straight from the faucet, put his head back, and swallowed.
    He went to his bed, fell on it, and waited.
    Ten minutes later, the headache started to subside. But the nightmare remained. A bad dream named Gordon Slezak.
    He needed to call Arty. He was the best friend Mac had now. He got his phone and hit the speed dial.
    It went to voicemail.
    “Need to talk to you,” Mac said. “Call me.”

    When she got back to the apartment building, Rocky wished for once that she did believe in prayer. Because this would be a good time to get some help from above.
    She hoped Boyd would be sober and remorseful. That had happened before. Then maybe she could reason with him. They could split up like responsible adults.
    Would she ever consider getting back together with him?
    It wasn’t like she had a lot of prospects.
    Her record in the boyfriend department was not exactly stellar. In high school she had been asked out twice. Once by Carl Day, who was into theater and who cancelled at the last minute for a reason Rocky never understood. It had something to do, so Carl said, with his