Chapter Eight
TRIGGER
There wasn’t enough whiskey in the world to ease the pain of betrayal. I’d been through many things in my life, but to live in my house, act like my family, live off our money, then turn your back and put my woman into the arms of that devil tore open my scars. I spun a red-tipped bullet between my fingers and wondered where the best place would be to jam it.
Neck.
Heart.
Ribs.
Or all three?
I shook my head. I needed to be more creative. The smells of the s*******r room came into my consciousness and pulled at my memory, and my head filled with more possibilities. The idea hit me across the face.
Wicked adrenaline smoked my veins and called my demons to the surface.
Yes, that would do.
It wasn’t until the sun started to set and the temperature dropped that I
