Free F Paul Wilson - Sims 02 by The Portero Method (v5.0) Page B

damn it! And they’re slaves. A sentient slave
species…you don’t think that’s evil?”
                 “Well, when you put it that way…”
                 “What other way is there to put it?
They’ve got to be stopped.”
                 Patrick laughed. “And who’s going to
do that? You?”
                 She nodded. “Yes.”
                 He couldn’t believe this. She
actually seemed serious. “You don’t really think—”
                 “Something’s rotten in SimGen,” she
said. “They’re dirty. When I was there I could smell it. And when I find out
what they’re hiding, I’m going to bring them down.”
                 “You.”
                 She set her jaw. “Me…with
a little help from some friends.”
                 “What friends?”
                 “Just…friends.” She stepped off the curb. “I’m going in to check over those sims ,
catalogue any injuries or evidence of drugging before the SimGen folks arrive.
Want to come along?”
                 Patrick hesitated. He’d already been
inside once and wasn’t keen on going back.
                 “I don’t know…I’ve got an early day
tomorrow…”
                 “I know. Beacon Ridge has filed some
new motions on the federal appeal.”
                 That gave him a mild jolt. “You’re
really staying on top of this, aren’t you. ”
                 “I tend to keep a close eye on my
investments. As a matter of fact, I was planning on coming up to White
Plains tomorrow.”
                 “What for?”
                 “To see you in
action.”
                 “Ah, yes. Your
investment.” He wasn’t sure if he liked the idea. He wasn’t some trick
pony.
                 “If you hang around awhile you could
give me a ride up there.”
                 Nowhere was an interesting
development. “Where are you staying?”
                 “Don’t know yet. How’s your motel?”
                 Whoa! His heart did a pole vault.
“Not fancy, but decent. As a matter of fact, you could save yourself a few
bucks and stay in my room.”
                 She laughed from deep in her throat. God, what a sound. He could listen to her laugh all night.
Visions of that marvelous tight body began to play in his head…in bed next to
him, straddling him…Pamela had been gone for too long and right now every
Y-chromosome in his body was doing a mating dance.
                 “I don’t think so.”
                 He raised his hands. “Nothing
salacious here. The room’s got two double beds. You could have the other one.”
                 “How generous,” she said with a wry
twist to her smile.
                 “And listen, I’ll be a Boy Scout. Really. You can have your bed, I’ll have mine, and we’ll
turn the lights out and just lie there and talk.”
                 Patrick didn’t quite believe he’d
just said that, but it was true. He’d settle for talk, anything to stay close
to this woman.
                 “I appreciate the offer,” Romy said,
“but I’m a private sort of person. But you will drive me?”
                 Drive you…aw, lady, don’t say things
like that.
                 “Sure.”
                 “Great. We’ll have to stop at my
office to pick up my overnight bag.”
                 “No problem.”
                 And on the way home, lady, I’m going
to do my absolute damnedest to convince you that two rooms is one too many.

           10
     
                 WESTCHESTER
COUNTY , NY
                 OCTOBER 30
                 Romy glanced at the clock numerals
glowing on the dashboard of Patrick’s BMW. Hard to