Desperate Choices Read Online Free PDF Page A

about hair like hers. He remembered reading it in one of those magazines his mom left around the house.
    Tommy slapped his open palm against his forehead. What a blockhead! He must be more brain-fried than he realized to be thinking about the colors in a girl’s hair.
    He inhaled sharply as her eyes flashed open, startling him. They’re green. He smiled at her in friendly invitation.
    “Who are you?” Her voice was low and breathy, the sound slightly scratchy from sleep. Tommy’s gaze shifted from her eyes to her mouth. “What are you doing here?”
    “I’m Tommy.” He ran a nervous hand through his mussed hair and cleared his throat before repeating, “Tommy Saunders.”
    “Okay, Tommy Saunders. What are you doing in my room?”
    “Your room?” Tommy was surprised at her revelation. Here all this time he’d thought it was his prison. “You live here?”
    The girl stared at him, still lying back against the pillows. “Yes. What are you doing here?”
    Tommy bent over and picked up a length of the long chain. He rattled the shiny links at her. “I’m one of the privileged guests. Can’t you tell?”
    “I don’t understand. Nobody’s supposed to be here. He promised I’d be alone. I don’t want anybody here.”
    It was easy to comprehend the irritation coupled with anxiety in her tone. Tommy watched her place both hands firmly against the mattress and struggle to push herself farther up, before she collapsed back against the pillows behind her. She was having a difficult time of it, he noted. He dropped the length of chain back to the floor and stepped forward in a silent offer of help.
    “No, don’t.” She glared up at him, the anger crossing her face quickly erased by a mask of determination. “Don’t touch me. I can do it myself.”
    “Hey, fine. I was only trying to help. Don’t bite my head off.”
    Tommy stepped back from the bed and slumped down in the chair a few feet away. He raised one leg and rested his unshackled ankle on his knee. Fingertips steepled under his chin, he contemplated the hostile young girl.
    “You’re Rebecca Burton, right?”
    “How’d you know that?”
    Tommy shrugged. He knew she didn’t know him, didn’t recognize him from school. Heck, nobody did. He was pretty much invisible there, too.
    “We go to the same school. I remember you from the drama club’s play last spring. You were pretty good.”
    “Oh.” A pink blush colored her cheeks. “Thanks.”
    An irritated frown marred her previously placid face. “Nobody’s supposed to be here. He promised. I’m supposed to be by myself.” She muttered the statement more to herself, evidently not expecting an answer. An undercurrent of anger threaded her words.
    Not like I can answer her anyway, he thought. I don’t have a clue why I’m here either.
    “So, anyway, why’d you end up here? Did the nutjob grab you off the street, too?”
    The girl looked at him with a puzzled expression. “What nutjob?”
    “You know, the guy who carried you in here bundled up like a mummy. That nutjob.”
    Tommy watched her face closely and knew the moment she understood who he was talking about. She grinned.
    “Oh, him. He’s not a nut. He’s okay. Actually he’s helping me out. You know, tough times and all.” Tommy watched as she raised her hand to brush back the fall of hair that swept across her cheek, her fingers pushing the wayward strands behind her ear.
    “I just don’t understand why you’re here.” Becca pointed to the chains. “None of this is the way it’s supposed to be—the way he promised me. And don’t call him that.” She sniffed, a mulish look hardening her visage. “He’s not crazy.”
    “Believe me, he’s crazy. I didn’t exactly shackle myself in this room, you know. I’ve been here a while. I’m not even sure how long it’s been anymore.”
    The sound of a key being turned alerted him Steven was back. Steven walked in and pulled the door closed behind him. He noted Tommy’s