Reading books romantic stories you will plunge into the world of feelings and love. Most of the time the story ends happily. Very interesting and informative to read books historical romance novels to feel the atmosphere of that time.Let Me In by Adam Nicholls (best romantic novels in english txt) đź“–
- Author: Adam Nicholls
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Book online «Let Me In by Adam Nicholls (best romantic novels in english txt) 📖». Author Adam Nicholls
“What are you going to do?”
Morgan turned to stare at him in disbelief. Over the years he’d heard some stupid things come from his best friend’s mouth, but this one trumped them all. “What do you think I’m going to do? I’m heading right over there.”
Gary’s eyes widened. “Alone?”
“Damn right.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, I—”
Morgan could barely get the words out before Gary snapped open the back door and jumped in. “All right, go.”
Gary slammed the door and Morgan shifted gear, punching the accelerator with a heavy foot. His head snapped back with the sheer force. He navigated the familiar streets with expert precision, fighting the effects of his migraine. All he could think about was Rachel.
“When we get there,” Gary said, “I’ll take point and check it out.”
“Not a chance,” Morgan said, shooting him a warning glance in the vanity mirror. “Hansen wants me there alone, and as long as he has Rachel, I’m going to do exactly what he says. I don’t want you interfering. You hear me?”
Gary frowned. “You’re going to die just because some asshole said so?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Actually, you do. Let me call for backup.”
Morgan’s heart beat harder. “If you call for backup, I’ll never forgive you. That’s your one and only warning.”
“But they’re professionals. They know what they’re doing.”
“If that’s true, then why did you have to drag me into this in the first place? Look, I said no, and that’s final.” Morgan twisted the wheel, rounding a corner too sharp and making the tires screech. Panicking, he dropped the gears and straightened the car, doing all he could not to scream with impatience. He could really do without the defiance.
Gary slumped back, his phone light illuminating his downturned lips. “Listen, pal. I’m not going to do this without your permission, but you need to consider your options here. There’s no point dying over this. There are other ways.”
“Oh yeah?” Morgan glanced at the time on the dashboard. Nine minutes to go. “Like what?”
“Are you willing to hear this?”
“I’ll humor you, but don’t push me.”
Shifting forward, Gary leaned between the two front seats. “You can go in while I hang back,” he said, making too many hand gestures like it was sign language. “I can put the call in for backup and keep them at bay. That should give you enough time to head inside and keep him from hurting Rachel. If you can get her out and stall Hansen, that might give us enough time to make our move.”
Morgan grunted like a raging bull. “Your plan to keep me alive is to send me in there alone and pray it takes him more than a few minutes to shoot me? You know, for a detective you’re not all that bright, and your comforting skills are—to say the least—total shit.”
“But you have faith in me, right?”
They were two blocks away. Morgan mulled on the decision while anxiety ate away at his nerves. He tapped the wheel, leaning in to peer into the dark street as he searched for the church. He was close now. He could feel it. “Fine, do whatever you have to do. But if Rachel gets hurt…”
“It won’t come to that.”
“How do you know?”
“Gut feeling.”
Morgan ground his teeth. “A gut feeling isn’t going to keep her safe, Gary. This isn’t some book or stupid action movie. This is real life. People get hurt here. It sucks.”
“But people also take risks here. Especially for people they love.”
“And if those risks don’t work out in their favor?”
Gary fell back, disappearing into the rear seat again. “Hmm.”
They were silent the rest of the way.
As it turned out, Rachel Young had been more trouble than she was worth. True, she was valuable as bait to lure her husband to the church, but Nick hadn’t counted on her fighting past the fear barrier and giving him an earful of insults.
For that, she’d suffered.
The insults were anything but subtle; she’d called him “a messed-up psycho,” and “a maniac with more problems than a ’72 Buick.” They were creative insults, spat at him like the venom of a dangerous snake. But what she didn’t stop to consider—much like a snake that had wandered into the wrong environment—was that her actions had consequences.
That was when he’d found the rope.
He’d made her fetch it herself, keeping the weapon aimed at her from a good distance. Obeying his command with a thousand-yard stare, she’d stumbled across the hall on uneasy feet, picked up the rope from beside the vandalized altar, and returned to the pew.
“Tie it around your hands,” he’d said to her then. When she’d hesitated, he realized she wasn’t able to tie the whole knot by herself. He probably couldn’t trust her if she could. So with that, he added, “Set it up and I’ll tighten it.”
Rachel had done as she was told, and he followed up on his word.
Pulling the rope taut around her wrists—hard enough that her skin ballooned in red, scar-like blotches on either side of the knot—he tore off a corner of her shirt and stuffed it into her mouth. After that, she hadn’t been a problem, and all he’d had to do was sit and wait.
Nick slumped onto the pew beside her, waiting in silence as he watched the door. It reminded him of the way old men watched their front porches in the movies. Only with them it was to protect their livelihood. For Nick, it was all about doing what was right. If that meant killing a woman here or there, then so be it.
The minutes dragged by like they were in a time warp. The woman at his side stirred with discomfort, not quite fighting but not keeping calm either. The blood rushed to her face, and Nick laughed at the way she looked; she reminded him of an angry cartoon strawberry.
“Not long now,” he said, as if it was any comfort to her, but it was assurance only to himself. For a moment, it felt as though Morgan Young would never arrive, and just as Nick was starting to drift off into thoughts of shooting the wife instead, the familiar drone of a car engine drew nearer to the church.
This was it.
His big moment.
Nick shot to his feet and ran to the stained-glass window, peering out like a curious puppy. He immediately caught sight of the black car parked on the dirt track that ran parallel to the church, but it was too dark to see how many people were inside.
For Rachel’s sake, it better have been just Morgan.
Dropping to his heels and running back to Rachel, he groped at her sweater with a fierce grip, hauling her to her feet. Regardless of what was about to happen, he was ready. As far as he knew, he had the only gun, there was no sign of the police, and if everyone played fair he would walk out of there tonight with a hell of a story to tell… but nobody to tell it to.
Nick’s mother briefly appeared in his thoughts.
He shoved it to one side.
There was no time for her now.
Not when everything was about to change.
Now that they’d stopped, Morgan found himself too petrified to move. Entering the church wouldn’t just mean his death; it would mean the discovery of whether Rachel had been hurt or not. It was weird—he’d expected to be the type to run into the building screaming her name like they did in the movies, but now that he was here, all he could think about was the sheer dread radiating from his forehead in the form of hot, oily sweat.
It was all he could do to not break down.
“Do you think he’s inside?” Gary asked, after sitting in silence.
Morgan checked his watch. Three minutes to go. After all the speeding and weaving through traffic, that was all the time he’d managed to shave off his limit. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to collect himself. “Where else would he be?”
Gary said nothing but looked to the bushes. It was a dark area where the light couldn’t reach,
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