Chapter Twenty-Nine
Randy Davis threw off covers, padded in his striped gray pajamas to the window and pulled back the heavy white silk drape. Crisp sunlight flooded the room with early summer warmth. Life is great, he thought. He was proud. He slept in what was once Frank Miranda’s bed, and he was f*****g what was once Frank Miranda’s wife. “Rise and shine Sleeping Beauty,” he called watching Robin dive headlong beneath the bedclothes.
“Let me sleep just a few more minutes—please, Randy? I’m tired.”
A weekend of being Long John8’s w***e had left her discombobulated.
Randy recalled the message from Thick Rod: You will not leave her side, boy. If Jorgensen threatens her with irreparable damage, you may take whatever action necessary. There is a pistol in the table drawer by her bed.
Ra
