Stephen Miller Book Novels & Stories

I swallow the bite of apple and it feels like a stone dropping into my gut. They’re loyal. They’re brave. And because of me, they’re targets. Miller didn’t refuse me because he hates me personally. He refused me because he’s terrified. And he has every right to be. As we march up the hill toward the Keep, leaving the painted barn and the fearful whispers behind, I realize Vorlag’s plan is working better than he knows. He doesn’t need to kill me to destroy me. He just needs to make me watch good men turn into pariahs for standing next to me.

Miller walked out of his office, his jaw set, his eyes hard. Don Emilio had just made the biggest mistake of his life. And Captain Raymond Miller was going to make sure he paid for it with everything he had. The drive to State University took forty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes of Miller practicing what he'd say, how he'd say it, knowing that no matter how he phrased it, he was about to destroy an innocent girl's life.

Miller looked around the shop. His eyes lingered on the discarded walking stick, then on a smear of red on the edge of a mahogany table. He walked over to it, touched it with a gloved finger, and looked back at Bonny. The silence stretched, thin and brittle. "Seems like a lot of excitement for a Tuesday," Miller said slowly. He looked toward the back room, where Richard was hiding. "You sure there ain't no one else in here, Bonny? Someone in a dark SUV that nearly ran me off the road on the way in?"