The Twelfth Of Never: A suspense mystery romantic thriller Read Online Free PDF Page B

Thelma while rubbing his chin. He had not even had time to
shave. Gideon thought about Colby and wondered what he would say if he could
see him now. But that was not what concerned him.
    Gideon turned and walked away. The throbbing was getting
worse. If he did not rest soon the flashbacks would continue. A cold shiver
crept up his spine as he walked to the elevator. He stood there for a moment.
The doors opened. For some unknown reason, Gideon could not enter the small
enclosure. All he could think about was the sweatbox and the heat of the hot
humid jungle.
    Gideon let himself be shoved aside by the flow of people
getting off, while others pushed him out of the way so they could get onto the
elevator. Then, the doors slid shut, leaving Gideon to fight the demon inside.
Gideon leaned up against the wall, gasping for air as beads of perspiration
dripped down his forehead. He finally turned to the sign above the door down
the hall. It would be a long climb up, but it was the only way. He just did not
have it in him to fight the demons that were taking control.

CHAPTER 3
     
    McDougal Alley was one of those quaint little streets no one
ventured down because of its obscurity. Benjamin had Jenny by the hand, pulling
her along until they reached the red brick carriage house tucked sedately in
the middle of the alley. The light in the third floor window was a beacon in
the early morning light. Jenny knew Trish would be waiting. She also knew
another argument over Benjamin would ensue.
    Benjamin squeezed her hand tightly as they walked silently up
the three flights. Neither one wanted to speculate on whom Trish was angrier
with. Benjamin finally broke the long silence when they reached the landing and
walked down the narrow hall.
    "I'll be working late at the studio, meet you back here
at six!" He was not asking, he was telling, and he would not give her a
chance to refuse.
    "You don't have to do this," Jenny argued.
    "It's not right, being alone. Besides, John would agree,
a good Italian meal is what you need." He looked pleadingly at Jenny.
    She smiled. "It's been eons since I was at Papa
Joe's."
    "I know, too long." Benjamin glanced down the hall
at the door looming in front of them. "Do you think Trish would want to
come too?"
    "I don't know? Why don't you ask her?" Jenny
suspected for some time that Benjamin had underlying feelings for Trish that
went far beyond his artistic needs.
    "She would sooner rip my heart out."
    "Maybe if you kept the sarcasm to yourself, and didn't
come on so strong."
    "I just tell it like it is," Benjamin replied.
    "Yeah, right! You and your caveman mentality," Jenny
mocked while shaking her head. "I swear Benjamin, you think girls enjoy a
club over the head and a quick drag off to the cave. It does not work that way,
not in this day and age."
    "She's the one who starts it."
    There was no use arguing. Jenny unlocked the door and let it
swing open slowly. The apartment was the same as the day John had left. The
hardwood floor sparkled with only braided rugs here and there, nothing more to
take away from its natural beauty. The overstuffed early American furniture was
from a time in her life she never wanted to forget. The colors were earth
tones, a soothing mixture of golds and browns with accents of orange. An old
milk can stood in the corner with a bouquet of cattails from a trip up north
years earlier. The morning news blared throughout the small apartment. Trish
stood in the kitchen with her arms crossed, tapping her foot.
    "If that jerk is out there, tell him thanks a lot,"
Trish yelled. Her eyes narrowed and she frowned as she turned to face the door.
    Jenny glanced back at Benjamin, but he was already tiptoeing
down the hall. Before he entered his apartment, he turned to Jenny and
sheepishly smiled while mouthing the words, "See you later."
    The longstanding feud over Benjamin's artistic interpretation
of Trish's body was never-ending. Up until that point, no one had really cared
who his models