Chapter Seventy Seven
Once outside, violence and regret bending and twisting her into a wired mess, she ran to her pick-up, her backpack bouncing on her shoulders as she did.
Ripping the door open, she threw the pack on the front seat, jumped into the cab, and glared out through the windshield at her thoughts.
Instantly she began to smash the dashboard with her fists as she wailed like a wild, wounded animal. “NO…NO…NO…MAAAAL.”
Her fists bloodied now, she satiated her fury, then slumped down in the seat, and wept and gurgled in pure ire into her hands. “You f**k you, you fuck.”
Manic, crazed, she retrieved her 38 out of her ankle holster. Snapping open the chamber, she saw that six copper bullets, much loved now, were set into the cylinder.
She needed that now, for though her 9 milli
