50

Heat pooled in her belly and she stumbled at the sudden ache. Keilor’s head rose like a wolf scenting prey, and his nostrils flared. His eyes told her he knew, and his knowledge of her weakness made her tremble. Without a word, he picked her up and carried her the short distance to his room.

The interior was dim, the furniture brown and heavy. His room was half the size of hers, yet contained a microscopic and very cluttered kitchen. The ugly quilt on his narrow bed was ragged, torn, and sliding off the naked mattress, which rested on the floor. Weapons of every description littered the coffee table, furniture, and nested in corners, along with various articles of discarded clothing.