Amber Morn
“Bailey let out a breath of relief. He settled in his chair, back straight and arms folded over his yellow T-shirt, and Jared got up to go next. Mitch stood glaring at the group, one foot tapping and gun pointed. His ring finger smacked against his weapon. One side of the bottom of his jacket rode up on his jeans, the opposite pocket hanging heavy with ammunition.
Kent leaned against a table, throwing black looks at the clock on the wall behind him. His overhanging brow and the hungry irritation... in his eyes reminded Bailey of a beast stalking prey.
She shivered. Checked the blog’s comments for the dozenth time.
And there it was — Vince’s message.
Thank you, God.
“It’s here.”
Kent jerked from the table and strode over to sit heavily in the chair next to Bailey. Laid his gun on the floor. He leaned toward the computer, his thick, hairy arm brushing hers. She willed herself not to draw away. “Took his sweet time, didn’t he.” Raising his chin, he read the words with an expression of disdain.MoreLess
Kent leaned against a table, throwing black looks at the clock on the wall behind him. His overhanging brow and the hungry irritation... in his eyes reminded Bailey of a beast stalking prey.
She shivered. Checked the blog’s comments for the dozenth time.
And there it was — Vince’s message.
Thank you, God.
“It’s here.”
Kent jerked from the table and strode over to sit heavily in the chair next to Bailey. Laid his gun on the floor. He leaned toward the computer, his thick, hairy arm brushing hers. She willed herself not to draw away. “Took his sweet time, didn’t he.” Raising his chin, he read the words with an expression of disdain.MoreLess
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