Hide & Seek - James Patterson [37]
“The game’s a draw,” Will said, but the look on Obermeier’s face told him the truth, and at that instant all of his furies emerged, even noisier and more terrifying than the thousands of fans descending on them. His father was in that crowd, carrying his mother. She was the dead one now. Blood gushed from her open mouth. His father held her out to Will, like a trophy.
The Haunting.
And Will Shepherd began to scream. Finally, he understood.
Brazil had won the World Cup.
The Blond Arrow had missed the shot of his life.
He had failed.
It’s all your fault.
It’s always been your fault.
CHAPTER 38
IT WAS LIKE carnival in Rio that night, and there was no more sensuous, no wilder time to be had anywhere in the world. Conga lines weaved along every street. Will had rented a red Corvette, and he drove it through the city like a madman. The football bum, the football loser, he thought. The werewolf of Rio.
“Your name is Angelita, right?” he asked the woman slouched beside him in the speeding car. She was tall and dark-haired; very slender and quite strikingly beautiful. She wanted to feel the Blond Arrow, she’d told him. She wanted the Arrow deep inside her.
“Yes, I am Angelita. You keep asking me, as if my name is going to change. Maybe the way you drive we’ll both be called Dead On Arrival soon.”
“That’s cute. That’s very funny,” Will said, shifting the car into fourth on the wide avenue that ran alongside Copacabana. “A funny and beautiful woman can be very dangerous, no?”
She tossed her black hair back and laughed. “You’re afraid I might steal your heart, right?”
“No, not at all, Angelita. I’m afraid that you won’t steal my heart. I’m afraid that no one will. Do you follow me?”
“Not a word of it, darling.”
“Perfect!”
He took her up to his hotel suite. The room was well illuminated by the twinkling lights of the city, so he didn’t bother to switch on the lamp. The rhythm from drum-beating bands on the street sounded as though they were right in the room.
“Put it in me right here, right now, Will Shepherd, numero nueve. I don’t want to wait one second longer,” she screamed at him as they embraced.
That had been hours and hours ago. He had put it in her all right. She’d moaned, then she had tried to scream. Then she desperately tried to pull the “arrow” out of her heart.
“What have you done? Oh my God, what did you do to me?”
“I wanted to steal your heart,” Will said in a whisper. “Did I?”
Now, he kept forgetting her name. Who the hell was she? Oh yes, yes, it was Angelita.
Now Angelita lay in the bathtub of his hotel room. He looked down at her and knew that he’d finally gone too far, even for him.
He had gone too far—slipped right over the edge.
If my fans could see me now, he thought. Here’s the real Will Shepherd. This is the worthless scum I am. Beneath the handsome exterior beats a heart of darkness. Conrad, right? Will had finished that book in school. He’d understood it perfectly from the very first pages, until the end.
No one knew him, no one got it—except maybe Angelita. Now, she knows, doesn’t she?
The woman’s brown eyes were glazed over, looking up at him—looking sideways it seemed. He was her god, right? Her savior from the mean streets of Rio. She had wanted so badly to fuck with such a big star. Well, she had been fucked.
In his hand he held a glass filled with red liquid. He toasted Angelita. He saluted the woman with her own blood.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Well, I’m not, but I wish I were.”
He drank from the glass, and knew he was lost. He had committed a murder. There would be a trial—he would be found guilty. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead.
Blond Arrow—silver stiletto—vampire—what difference did it make, really.
He was going to prison for life.
CHAPTER 39
I KNEW ALL about “falling from grace,” but “falling in love” was something I realized I hadn’t really understood before. It was happening though, gradually, beautifully, between Patrick and me. Day by day, our feelings for each