Skinner hides himself among the shadows and eyes the tall man with the g*n in his hand. He thinks, you should have called the police when you had the chance, Sam. You would have saved yourself. Saved the children . . . the little kittens. Robyn was beyond saving, but you didn’t know that at the time. You wanted to play hero. To prove to my little kitten, Rebecca, that you are deserving of her love.
Skinner hides himself among the shadows and eyes the tall man with the g*n in his hand. He thinks,Sam walks, the semi-automatic gripped in his right hand, the sweat building in his palm, his head growing dizzy from his too rapid breathing, his stomach cramped. He may be six feet tall, but he is in way over his head. Sam is a nice man. A Good Man. Born and bred in Manhattan to wealthy parents,
