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Danger at the Door

By Michelle Sutton

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Prologue
The door slammed behind him as lightning flashed across the summer sky. A boom echoed as thunder struck the ground. Moist summer air filled his lungs and electricity raised the hair on the back of his neck. He savored the scent and held it in like smoke from a cigarette. With a grunt, he exhaled, wishing he had something more powerful than tobacco to inhale.
The unpredictability of monsoon season shot bolts of excitement through him. It gave him energy. Made him want to go on the hunt for someone weak.
A slow grin tugged at his mouth. It had been a long time — nearly a year — since he could do as he pleased. How he hated being restricted like a child, and jail felt like one big time-out. Idiot guards thought they could control him. But he made sure to wish them dead whenever he was forced to comply.
After all, it had worked on his Momma.
If only she’d used time-out with him instead of her wicked ways.
He clenched his fists and blocked the memory, resisting the urge to smash his knuckles on the brick wall. Sporadic drops of rain pelted his head, cooling him off.
His cottony mouth made him long for a strong drink. Something with kick, like whiskey.
Resisting the urge to open his mouth and let the raindrops quench his thirst, he pressed his lips together.
Childhood had abandoned him long ago.
He imagined going to Jeepers Creepers pub and finding an easy woman to keep him company tonight. But this time he’d watch himself and make sure she didn’t have a jealous husband waiting in the wings. Yeah, tonight he’d pick a gal that he could crash with until he got his life together.
There was only one woman he really wanted. She just didn’t know it yet. Their reunion would be sweet, or she’d regret it. He’d make sure of that.
Soon the tangy taste of adrenaline would flood his veins. He missed the tingling sensation, the warmth coursing through him when a woman begged him for mercy. There had been many cries echoing in his head over the past few years. But none of them satisfied his craving. He imagined his first night with her. Yeah, he’d make their time together memorable.
He leaned against the rough brick wall of the decrepit jail building. Grumbling, he popped his knuckles as he waited for his ride. What was taking him so long to get there? He better not back out just because he found himself a woman with a kid.
First, he had to collect what his narc friend owed him. And if he felt generous, he might let him go without pounding his face in. Depending on how useful he’d be.
Just a running vehicle and some cash. That’s all he needed to get back on his feet. And a decent job. Something low-key to avoid having his background checked. But it had to be legit. Work that would make his probation officer content. Then, when he got himself set up in a place, he’d find that
brunette who taunted him in his dreams.
Sam’s girl.
This time he’d get the right house.

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