He'd done everything he thought he needed to make sure things went as smooth as possible between he and the Southern Sam. Knives under the sink. Handcuffs behind the nightstand. Benzodiazepine and a syringe taped under the bed. And, as much as he hated it, the .9 mm in the sock drawer. If worst came to worst, all he had to do was scream or bang on ( Read more... )

The clamber of the car doors slamming snapped against the brick walls to the apartment building. It was pretty much the only sound for a mile other than that damn dog from Apartment 4C yapping like he had a duck bursting out of his ass. Cameron yawned some, hand covering that open maw. Tired eyes blinked wide before drooping half-lidded over those ( Read more... )

A hand rubs at the back of his neck, nerves stiffening his muscles like a tightened spring ready to launch. On one hand, he had a man to play with, to test the mentality of. On the other, he had a stranger with little proof of his social credibility. If things went sour, he'd only have a moment to take the revolver out of his cassock and do what ( Read more... )