Cutter (27 page)

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Authors: Thomas Laird

BOOK: Cutter
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‘O
h,
yo
u,’
sh
e
grin
s
.

She’
s
awakene
d
an
d
she’
s
go
t
th
e
ide
a
no
w
.

Sh
e
surprise
s
m
e
b
y
goin
g
fo
r
m
y
fl
y.
She’
s
go
t
he
r
col
d
hand
s
o
n
m
e
an
d
i
t
shock
s
m
e,
s
o
I
shak
e
he
r
.

‘Yo
u
wan
t
t
o
pla
y
roug
h
, Aaron?’ 

‘Sur
e.I
lov
e
t
o
pla
y
roug
h.

S
o
I
sla
p
he
r.
Sh
e
look
s
a
t
m
e
strangel
y,
an
d
the
n
sh
e
strike
s
m
e
o
n
th
e
fac
e.I
hi
t
he
r
bac
k
wit
h
equa
l
forc
e,
an
d
sh
e
return
s
wit
h
a
n
angr
y
swip
e
tha
t
smack
s
th
e
bridg
e
o
f
m
y
nos
e.I
thin
k
I’
m
bleedin
g
.

Sh
e
come
s
u
p
t
o
m
e
an
d
kisse
s
m
e
savagel
y
an
d
burie
s
he
r
hand
s
i
n
m
y
crotc
h.
Sh
e
find
s
m
e
an
d
begin
s
t
o
mol
d
m
y
fles
h
int
o
wha
t
i
t
i
s
sh
e
want
s
m
e
t
o
b
e.I
fin
d
tha
t
I’
m
almos
t
distracte
d
b
y
wha
t
she’
s
doin
g
.

Th
e
stewardes
s
bend
s
dow
n
an
d
take
s
m
e.
Sh
e
stay
s
there fo
r
a
lon
g
tim
e
an
d
I
can’
t
fin
d
i
t
i
n
m
e
t
o
sto
p
he
r
.

The
n
sh
e
jerk
s
hersel
f
uprigh
t
.

‘Tur
n
th
e
heate
r
bac
k
o
n.
It’
s
col
d
i
n
her
e.

I
d
o
a
s
sh
e
command
s.
The
n
sh
e
take
s
of
f
th
e
res
t
o
f
he
r
clothe
s.
Sh
e
i
s
a
s
I
imagine
d
she’
d
b
e.
Th
e
ver
y
imag
e
appear
s
befor
e
m
e
i
n
thi
s
di
m
ligh
t
o
f
a
ful
l
moo
n
an
d
th
e
sligh
t
glo
w
fro
m
m
y
hous
e,
thos
e
thre
e
hundre
d
fee
t
awa
y.
Bu
t
I
ca
n
se
e
he
r
i
n
thi
s
moonligh
t
an
d
sh
e
i
s
a
s
lus
h
an
d
perfec
t
a
s
th
e
firs
t
tw
o
.

Sh
e
help
s
m
e
slid
e
m
y
pant
s
of
f,
an
d
the
n
sh
e
straddle
s
m
e.
I’
m
sittin
g
o
n
th
e
middl
e
o
f
th
e
fron
t
sea
t.
I’
m
watchin
g
he
r
eye
s,
tryin
g
t
o
remembe
r
wha
t
i
t
wa
s
tha
t
I
ha
d
i
n
min
d
fo
r
he
r
.

De
e
De
e
rip
s
m
y
hairpiec
e
of
f.
Nex
t
sh
e
tear
s
of
f
th
e
mustach
e,
an
d
i
t
sear
s
m
y
uppe
r
li
p
a
s
sh
e
doe
s
s
o
.

I
sla
p
he
r
o
n
accoun
t
o
f
th
e
pai
n,
an
d
sh
e
respond
s
i
n
kin
d.
Thi
s
tim
e
I
kno
w
I’
m
bleedin
g.
Bu
t
sh
e
bend
s
towar
d
m
e,
he
r
breast
s
brushin
g
agains
t
m
y
hand
s,
an
d
sh
e
lick
s
th
e
bloo
d
fro
m
m
y
nos
e
an
d
li
p.
The
n
he
r
tongu
e
jam
s
it
s
wa
y
int
o
m
y
mout
h
an
d
she’
s
slammin
g
a
t
m
e
a
s
i
f
there’
s
n
o
tim
e
lef
t
. A
s
i
f
she’
s
go
t
t
o
ge
t
thi
s
thin
g
ove
r
no
w
.

I
wa
s
raise
d
i
n
a
ver
y
stric
t
househol
d.I
tol
d
he
r
tha
t,
o
r
somethin
g
lik
e
tha
t.I
wa
s
referrin
g
t
o
he
r
indirectl
y,
bu
t
I
kne
w
wha
t
I
mean
t
.

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