The Cypress House
“He sat on a bar stool while Rebecca ran a cool rag over his face and inspected the wound.
Arlen could see the boy's breathing stagger when her fingertips slid over his skin. It wasn't from pain.
"You okay?" he said.
"Yeah," Paul mumbled. "I wasn't expecting him to come on that fast. Once I got my bearings, I'd have been all right." "Sure," Arlen said, knowing that Tate probably would have beaten the boy within an inch of his life if he'd been allowed to start swinging that chair leg.
"Thank you for stepping in," Paul said. "I shouldn't have needed your help, but —" "You were going to need somebody's help. I would have, too, with that old bastard.
Only reason I was able to get away with what I did was that he was paying attention to you. That's a mean son of a bitch, Paul, and a dangerous one. You see him again, you stay the hell away from him." A family of vipers, the woman named Gwen had said. Tate surely seemed to be, and tonight he'd traveled alone.
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
7 / 10
8 / 10
User Reviews: