"James McCann - Kith3" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCann James)

Melanie, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips, said, “Why are you so mean?”
Robert turned to her and sat on a stool. He leaned against the counter. “Go out with
me and I guarantee I’ll be nice.”
His two buddies sat beside him, both laughing. Melanie turned away.
 The Kith – 3 –

“Don’t hold your breath,” she said, cleaning the coffee maker.
“You telling me that you’d fuck Matt, but you won’t give me a ride?”
“I didn’t fuck Matt. We made love.”
“Aww, ain’t that sweet. But when he tells the story, and he does it a lot, he talks ‘bout
you like just another slut.”
Melanie’s muscles stiffened. “Maybe you should ask him for a fuck.”
“Y’know bitch, one of these days I’m just going to take what I want.”
Melanie’s hands trembled, and standing tall she tried to hide her fear beneath a veil of
anger. “Not a good idea to talk like that with the surveillance cameras.”
Robert laughed. “They don’t have sound. I’m leaving now, but sooner or later I’ll get
what I want.”
Melanie held her composure as Robert and his buddies left. But as though the bell’s
jingle were a sprite whose song stole her strength her knees buckled and she collapsed in
tears against the counter.
Then a voice: “There is no need for your tears, you were never alone.”
Melanie raised her face from her palms to see the stranger. “How did you ... the bell
never...”
“You must not have heard it over your weeping. I apologise if my presence has
frightened you, but after I left I realised I’d forgotten something.”
“What?”
“My manners. I’m Trent,” he said, extending his hand to her.
“I know. I heard you tell Robert.”
His eyes grew glossy, and he stared into a world beyond that which Melanie could
see. “How strange I would introduce myself to him, and not my hostess.” He still
extended his hand, but when his voice became as distant as his gaze she didn’t take it.
Then, as if he were in a dream he said, “I knew a man like him once.”
Melanie laughed, breaking his dream-like state. Taking his hand she said, “I’m
Melanie. Why do you talk like you’re an old man? You can’t be more than twenty. If
even that.”
He counted off three of his fingers and smiled. “Nineteen, I suppose. I guess when
you uproot a familiar world and later reflect upon it, it seems like a lifetime ago.”
“I guess. Listen, I’d pour you another cup of coffee but I just poured out the pot. Can
I get you something else?”
“Tea?”
“Sure. Hot water and a bag, what could be simpler.” She smiled. “So, you said you
were visiting. Mind if I ask who?”
“Not at all.”
Melanie grabbed a tea-pot from beneath the counter and, after pouring hot water into
it, she tossed in a couple of tea bags. Taking a hot-plate from the same place as she had
got the pot she placed both in front of Trent. Still waiting for him to answer, she took his
wide smile to heart and asked, “Well?”
“You haven’t asked yet,” he chuckled.
“Who’re you visiting?”
“The Powers.”