My Neighbour's Wife
His ripped up suit marks him as one of ours, and his eyes turn pleading once they land on Jaxon and me.
The demon at the table’s head smiles, and it is razor sharp, much like a shark having locked onto its prey, and he adds with a voice that reminds me of syrup gliding down a pistol, “I’ll be sure to return the favour, Hawke.”
Jaxon casually reaches for the silver rifle where he’d strapped it to my thigh, a small dangerous beauty, and my heart doesn’t stutter, neither do I feel a shred of emotion as he aims for the head of his beaten up man. And shoots.
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