Mean Streak

Can we talk?” “Fuck off.” “Good. You’re willing to cooperate.

But owning the pain, running through it, overcoming it, was a matter of self-will and discipline.

I’ve got your back, Doc. You can count on it. I would kill them before I let them touch you.

Grief was an illness with me. Unfortunately it’s incurable. I’ve just learned to live with it.

An affair? Jeff?” “You think it’s beyond him?” “No, I just can’t imagine him working up enough emotion or blood flow to get hard.

While we try to find out what happened to her, there’s something you should keep in mind.” Jess arched a brow. “Oh?” “If Hayes Bannock has your wife, you probably top his shit list. Be afraid.

If you wanted to kill me, why haven't you smothered me in my sleep?" "No sport in that." She gestured towards the ceiling. "Can I expect to be strung up on that bar and gutted like a deer?" He looked up at the bar and frowned. "Too much sport. Lots of heave-hoeing. Big mess to clean up after. Instead, why don't you just drink the poison-laced whiskey?" He extended the glass toward her again and when she didn't move he said, "No? Okay then." He shot the drink. She might not want the edge taken off but he sure as hell did.

Fine. He had let her indulge in her hobby, while he’d indulged in his, and right now his was clenching her soft thighs against his pumping hips. He gave one last push and came. He wasn’t sure Alice did, but she was better than Emory at faking it.

He took a long time to answer. “I asked which of her brothers had fathered the baby. She told me it could have been either.

The bullies who instilled that hatred were never made to account. I think they should. I think they should because he died that day, too.

He kissed her like he meant it, like this kiss was going to be the last thing he ever did on earth, and he was going to do it right, thoroughly, and leave nothing wanting.

few minutes elapsed. The new logs made popping sounds as they caught. She watched the flickering patterns

If Hayes Bannock has your wife, you probably top his shit list. Be afraid.

If she commits to something, it's forged in steel.

...He called up the numbness with which he armed himself to get through each day.

back on it, he wondered why Knight hadn’t simply telephoned to ask. Had he and Grange been checking up on him? Did they still suspect him of wrongdoing? Call him paranoid, but… The door to the suite had narrow glass panels flanking it. Keeping his body out of sight, he peered through one of the panes. On the far side of the parking lot sat an unmarked car, noticeable because it was seemingly so innocuous. The driver’s door window had been lowered only far enough to accommodate a cigarette whose smoke curled up into the fog and became part of it. Amateur surveillance at best. But Jeff still had to get around it. He was deliberating on how to accomplish that when he heard Alice’s voice coming from the bedroom upstairs. Maybe she’d called the clinic to check in. Or maybe not. He crossed the living area to the staircase and climbed

some were already at the Floyds’ place. Connell would also be on his way to help Hayes. Having just now reunited, Connell wouldn’t permit— The sharp curve appeared suddenly, and she saw it too late to avoid the collision. The car crashed into the gray wall of rock. The seat belt caught. The airbag deployed. It no doubt saved her life, but the impact was bruising. The interior of the car filled with choking powder. As soon as the bag deflated, she batted at it and groped blindly for the door handle. She all but fell out of the car, the hood of which had been squashed against the sheer rock face like a