Freak Read Online Free PDF

night I found you, the night I shot him . . .” He closed his eyes briefly. “I don’t want those images floating around in my big head, even if they’re pale and fuzzy and in pieces. Because I still see them, when what I should be seeing is you and our future. Not our past.”
    His words were like sharp needles, poking her over and over again. But deep down, Sheila knew he was right. She was pushing for this wedding because she was terrified of losing him, but if she continued to push, she would lose him.
    “Okay,” she said, relenting. “I hear you. I’m sorry I caused a scene.”
    “Don’t apologize, darlin’. We should have had this talk months ago. It was cowardly of me to not tell you how I was feeling.”
    She held up her left hand, where a diamond the size of a small marble sat on her ring finger. “Should I still be wearing this?”
    “Of course!” Morris kissed her hand. “Don’t you dare take it off. You’re my fiancée, and someday, you’ll be my wife. When the time is right. When we’re both . . . healthier.”
    Healthier. Nice way to put it. Morris was a recovering alcoholic, and she was a recovering sex addict, and a year ago, they had both fallen off the wagon. The road to recovery was a long one, and not a straight path by any means. Sheila knew that better than most.
    “Can you live with giving it a bit more time?” Morris’s voice was gentle.
    She looked at him, looked at his handsome face in the glowy light of the restaurant, his kind eyes, his hopeful expression. The doubts were still screaming like banshees inside her chest, but she forced them down and nodded. “Yes.” She wiped her eyes, feeling self-conscious. “God, I must look like hell.”
    “You’re the most beautiful woman in the room right now.” Morris kissed her hand again. “You hang on to that wedding planner. We’ll need it someday soon.”
    “Sure.” Sheila looked down at the leather binder. The tears were threatening her again. She willed them not to drop. “No problem.”

chapter 4
    ROSEDALE PENITENTIARY WAS a cold, lifeless place. Which was to be expected, considering it was a prison.
    Abby Maddox sat facing her high-powered attorney, a man with a thick mop of silver hair and a ruddy alcoholic’s complexion. They were in one of the prison “conference rooms,” a laughable name for the space, considering it was only ten by fifteen feet, with painted concrete walls, a metal table, and four folding chairs. The steel was hard underneath Abby’s ass, and she shifted periodically in her seat as her lawyer droned on. He had been speaking non-stop for five minutes. The man loved the sound of his own voice.
    Which wasn’t to say that Bob Borden wasn’t a hell of a defense attorney. He was, and that’s why she’d picked him. When word of Abby’s arrest last year in Florida leaked to the media, a dozen criminal attorneys from prestigious law firms had contacted her, all offering to represent her pro bono. She knew right away she wanted Borden. His success rate at trial was impressive, he was male, and he’d been married for over twenty-five years.
    And that last part was key. The more married a guy was, the more pliable he tended to be.
    Abby nodded every few seconds to show she was listening,which she was, for the most part. Borden’s animated gestures were difficult to ignore. Though he was in his mid-fifties, he was far from unattractive, dressed in a gray custom-tailored pinstripe suit and a teal necktie that brought out the bright blue of his eyes. The man was skillful, manipulative, and aggressive, and his intensity was exactly what she needed.
    Borden’s only weakness? His ego. Men .
    “So where do things stand?” she asked when he finally paused. She was careful to keep the impatience out of her voice.
    “They don’t have much.” Borden’s gaze flickered to her lips, as they always did when she spoke. On cue, she licked them, watching as his breath quickened slightly. Really, it was too