“Blood oozed like thick strawberry syrup from a cut near his left eye, and Jeremy wondered if it would heal into a scar mirroring his own. Eye for an eye, he thought, half amused. His father wouldn’t listen. Didn’t Jeremy warn him? Didn’t he say never to touch him again? Yet, the alcohol swelled his father’s muscles, transforming him into Mr. Hyde, and he was powerless against the rage. He demanded combat to alleviate the aggression, and so he flew into Jeremy’s room that morning looking for... a familiar foe. Unfortunately, Mr. Stahl didn’t count on coming face-to-face with Jeremy’s baseball bat. There was no fight. Just one swing. Mr. Stahl lay curled in the corner of the room, still and quiet. Jeremy moved swiftly through the room, shoving clothes into a huge duffel bag. Shoving all the books, binders, and notebooks he could find into his book bag. Shoving the . . . He took a quick inventory. Well, there was nothing else. His few collectibles and important personal items were at Roy’s garage, locked safely away in a corner cabinet.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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