Gus Keller rested his forehead in his hand as the large car drove toward Lightning Ridge, home of Australia’s largest black opal deposits…and of the man whom he and Marguerite Zelle were supposed to kill.
“This is it,” he thought. “This is it…this is it…this is it.”
His thoughts were chaotic. He had had a good night’s sleep, and his memory had still not returned. He still couldn’t remember who he was, although he knew what he was… a cold-blooded assassin.
*Was that logical? He thought. If he were an assassin, would he really think of himself as a cold-blooded killer? Even without his memory? Wouldn’t he be the same person? Just as cold-blooded now as he had been then? What made a person have ethics and morals….the way they were raised? But if he couldn’t remember how he was raised…why did he have ethics now. Why did the thought of killing someone fill him with abhorrence?
At least, killing someone for hire, he amended. There were plenty of people who *should be killed. Rapists. Murderers… his thoughts trailed off.
“This is it…this is it… this is it…”
Out of the corner of his eye he looked at the beautiful form of Marguerite Zelle. She was watching the scenery passing outside her window. She looked so….patrician. So beautiful. Even when she’d been firing off that shot gun earlier today. The way she’d stood there, in total control of that weapon. He had found that so damn sexy, even though there was a subtext there…how many people had she killed with such a weapon.
But when she looked at him with those eyes…smiled at him with those lips….he was just ready to melt.
“This is it…this is it… this is it.”
Every tick of the odometer was bringing them closer to Lightning Ridge, and his destiny.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment