CHAPTER EIGHT
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ADAM SAW THE FLAMES through the trees lining the road and roared his anguish. His foot floored the gas pedal.
He didn’t care about the sharp bends of the road anymore. Losing Diane meant a new failure, and probably, one with which he couldn’t live.
Handling the steering wheel with his left hand, the man rummaged through the glove compartment and took a revolver out. He laid it on the passenger seat without taking his eyes from the road or the flames painting the sky reddish. He leaned forward and also took out the g*n he had stuffed at the small of his back. He left it on his thigh, handy if necessary.
In less than three minutes, Adam reached the ranch yard and slammed his brakes hard at some distance from the barn. He remembered that he still had the grenades i
