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Back Strangers She Knows Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover Text
  3. Praise
  4. Booklist
  5. Dedication
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. BPA
  61. Author Bio

FEMALE. DARK HAIR CHOPPED SHORT, FAIR SKIN, BLUE EYES. 5'6". 130LBS. AGGRESSIVELY PHYSICALLY FIT. UNCLEAR ON DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WAR ZONE AND GYMNASIUM. SMUGGLER. LIAR. ACTRESS. SERIAL KILLER. MURDERER OF KELLEN’S OWN CHILD.

Mara Philippi: dressed in a rain poncho, standing beside the golf cart, pointing her pistol at Kellen and smiling as if she’d done something kind.

Kellen didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. She ducked and attacked, head first, driving herself into Mara’s belly.

Above her head, the pistol blasted.

Both women stumbled, thrown off balance by the recoil.

Kellen slammed the top of her head into Mara’s elbow.

The pistol went flying into the tall, wet grass.

Now Kellen could kill her.

But when she went for her pistol, Mara slammed a fist into Kellen’s wrist.

Outraged by the pain, the nerves in Kellen’s arm went numb. Her hand, her right hand, curled into the useless ball it had been after the brain surgery.

She stared at it, at the poor thing at the end of her arm, and all the helplessness of the past rushed at her.

But she wasn’t helpless. She could use this wrecked limb. She had learned how, in the garage, punching at a mattress Max had pressed against the wall.

She looked up at Mara. At Mara, who stared at her hand, lips curled in disgust. “What’s wrong?”

Kellen flung that arm, that hand, at Mara’s face. With all the power of her body behind her, she punched her right in the nose. She felt the crunch, felt the satisfaction of knowing she’d hurt the woman who had drugged her baby.

Mara shrieked, fell backward, floundering under the ferocity of Kellen’s attack. She whimpered. She moaned. She tried to speak, but Kellen didn’t care, didn’t listen. She wanted to beat Mara into the ground, make her unconscious, hurt her until she died.

Punch left. Right. A kick. Left. Right.

Mara spun, caught herself, did a flip so athletic Kellen remembered their former rivalry. When Mara landed on her feet, she had a black and yellow weapon in her hand. She stabbed it at Kellen. Kellen parried with her hand and arm and—

A blast of pain. A shriek of nerve burn. The brain shut down.

Kellen knew nothing. Nothing. Not even the gray.

38

Kellen swam to the surface of consciousness. She lay on her belly, face turned to the side. The surface beneath her cheek was rough. She ached all over, as if she had the flu. She didn’t know where she was, or why she hurt.

She did know who she was, and counted that as a plus.

She listened to the ticking of a clock, to rain and wind rattling the windows, and to an odd, rhythmic clicking. Twice the clicking stopped for a few seconds, then started again.