Read Breaking Point (The Point Series: Book 2) for Free Online Page B

wrong with you?"
    "Stomach cramps."
    "Did you eat something dodgy?"
    "Nope. I'm on my period. It's a real heavy one too."
    "Jeez..." He shook his head briskly and his wobbly bits jiggled. "Spare me the details, Rachel."
    "What? You squeamish?" She patted herself low down on her tummy. "It's totally natural. Every woman you know has a menstrual cycle."
    "Menstru...? For Christ's sake, wee girl. Are you trying to make me boak?"
    "Oh, grow up, will you?"
    "There's nothing immature about my reaction. T.M.I., right?"
    "This is sexual discrimination."
    "What the fu...?" The supervisor tugged at his beard. "Can you try and get somebody to cover for you at least?"
    "That's not my job."
    He walked away from her, mumbling non-words to show he was pissed off but also to deny her any sort of ammunition for indignation.
    "Will I take that as a yes, then?"
    "Just go home, Rachel."
    "Thanks, boss ."
    "Phone me tomorrow. I'll have next week's rota worked out by then."
    Oh, you prick . His parting shot was a not-so-veiled threat. She was getting fuck all shifts next week thanks to her lip. Maybe she should have called Brian to come in and cover for her. He hadn't replied to her last text, though, and that was niggling at her too. God only knew what state he was in, especially after his little slumber party with the stoner-stray. Hardly an optimum condition for keeping your wits about you.
    Rachel fetched her jacket and handbag from the poky staff/storeroom and slipped out the service entrance at the back of the building. Her stalker wouldn't be able to see her from his spot in the car park. To play it extra safe, she stepped over the low wall that bordered the petrol station and crept through somebody's back garden.
    She felt a little shitty about trespassing but was relieved to find the place devoid of dog toys. There was no car in the driveway and a solitary rusted swing with faded ropes and a cracked plastic seat hinted at grown-up kids. Rachel kept her head down and emerged onto the residential street hoping that nobody would notice her. If any curtains twitched, she didn't notice.
    The street led to the main road into Newcastle. She took a slight detour on the way to the bus station and stopped at a payphone. They could still be found, though they were fewer and farther between.
    Rachel dialled the PSNI Crime Stoppers after Googling for the number on her mobile. She didn't trust their claim to anonymity and wanted to cover all angles.
    A polite and calm voice asked Rachel how he could help her.
    "I'd like to report some suspicious activity outside a petrol station."
    The man seemed to take her claims seriously and promised to send a marked police car out as soon as one became available. Rachel half-wished she could go back and watch the caper unfold. She was better off out of it, though.

Whoop Whoop
    ––––––––
    O wen started to feel twitchy an hour into his stake-out. The meditation app was a load of shite in the daylight and the radio had nothing for him. There were no CDs worth a damn in the car either.
    "Fuck it."
    He'd have to go back in, see if he could get any more info out of the girl. Sitting and waiting was a load of shite.
    The automatic doors shushed open. Owen made a beeline for the tills. There was a fat guy in Rachel's spot. He looked angry. Owen didn't waste the smile on him.
    "Where is she?"
    "Who?"
    "Rachel O'Hare."
    "She left half an hour ago. Why?"
    "What's it to you?"
    "Excuse me?"
    The big man quivered. Owen wasn't sure if it was anger or fear. He was happy to keep poking until he found out.
    " Excuse you?" Owen sniffed the air. "Why, did you fart?"
    "Jesus Christ, this is some day. Why don't you just call her if you want her?"
    "Did you just take The Lord's name in vain?"
    "Would you prefer it if I said the F-word?"
    Owen smiled. The big guy was showing a little bit of fire. More fool him.
    "I'd prefer it if you'd act professionally, sir."
    The fire in fatso's belly scorched his cheeks red. "Would you