Chapter Nine
The dog was lapping up water in the kitchen. Mark knew it was close to midnight as he lay in the dark in bed, taking a minute to listen to the sounds of the night, the quiet. As he settled his thoughts, he slipped a hand under his pillow to touch the steel of the gun he slept with every night. Even when he closed his eyes, that feeling of someone coming after him never left. He never had been able to just look the other way.
There was something about Billy Jo. He realized she was at a crossroads, at her limit in terms of how much she could have the s**t kicked out of her, emotionally.
The dog jumped on the bed and lay down beside him, and he ran his hand over the mangy mutt who’d shown up on his doorstep not long after he’d moved to the island.
“So you need a name. Guess y
