For the Love of Jazz
“From head to toe and back up again, he ached. His jaw throbbed where that sonovabitch had clobbered him across the face the first time. His ribs hurt, his gut hurt, his head hurt, but most of all, his hands hurt. His hands were torn, bloodied, and bruised, his knuckles raw and scraped, and every single mark was a battle scar.Yet he had a smile of satisfaction on his face.Jasper Wayne McNeil Jr., better known as Jazz, had fought back for the first time in his young life. And he had given it good. He hadn’t meant to, certainly hadn’t planned it, even though he had dreamed of it, time and time again. But when he walked in on that bastard beating his momma again, he’d lost it.With the speed of youth and the advantage of surprise, Jazz had taken a swing at the man the law called his stepfather, and broken his nose. Big for his age, and smart, Jazz was an eerie echo of the man Beau Muldoon had hated his entire life. With his father’s eyes and his father’s derisive smile on his young face, J...asper McNeil Jr.MoreLess
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