Driving through the streets of Mercy Springs, he couldn't help but think back to his high school days. Everything was so much simpler back then. No worries beyond who to take to prom and what he and his buddies were going to do on the weekend. He and Kresley would hang out, go to the movies or ride around the town square, sipping on her favorite milkshake, banana pudding. They weren’t worried about the future beyond that moment. Too bad it ended so harshly and abruptly. And it was all his fault. Becoming an adult, with adult decisions and daily reminders of youth becoming a faint memory, well, it sucked. Being an adult sucked.
He drove by the local ice cream place and decided to go through the small drive thru. Banana pudding milkshakes weren't his thing, but he knew Kresley still loved them, according to his sources, and he wanted to win a few points before tackling the hard subject he was going to bring up. He checked out the employee handing him the shake. She was pretty, but way too young. Nice body, nice hair, great smile, but he wasn't into jailbait. Well, not now, anyway. He had an important woman to see and wasn't about to screw anything up until he had his answer. He winked at the pretty girl with the pretty blue eyes, just in case. He was a lady’s man, for goodness sake. Can't mess up the reputation.
Banana pudding milkshake in hand, he turned into the small alley behind his destination. Good. The car was still here, which meant she was still at work, but she was alone. He didn’t see her sisters’ cars anywhere. He knew Francie sometimes drove her Harley around town, but he didn’t see that either. He had been here earlier today, but for way different circumstances. Thank God he had shut that down. Smartest decision he ever made. He shuddered at the memory of an earlier phone call he made. Some would call him chicken-shit for not doing it in person. Oh well. If only people came to him with a gigantic label that said, don't interact with me due to high levels of crazy. He snorted at his own whit, while unfolding himself from his '69 Mustang. This same car got him a date long ago with the red-haired woman with curves so pronounced that they could make a man go deaf, dumb and blind. He figured driving his vintage mustang tonight might bring him some luck. A few tugs at his black hair over his forehead, a collar adjustment, and Drake Harris was ready to make an impression. Trying to think positive, he thought of how excited she would be to see him standing there.
As he walked across the small alley, Drake thought he heard a muffled sound, but dismissed it quickly. With milkshake in hand, he held his fist up to knock on the back door. He hoped she heard the knock, knowing Kresley’s office was more towards the front of the building. Had he known that he was about to die, he probably would not have passed up the opportunity of nailing the jailbait earlier at the Ice Cream Spot. He would probably still be there, buttering up the cute girl to hang out with him after her shift.
They say your life can flash before your eyes in that moment before death, in an instant movie clip of every memory you have, every person that has been important to you. To Drake's disappoint, this didn't happen for him. As he felt the whoosh of air at the back of his head and the blinding, numbing pain, he had one, mundane, irritating thought. Don't drop the milkshake. But he did. Son of a bitch! Then blackness took him.
∞∞∞
A dark figure, gloved hands resting at their sides, breathed heavily, assessing everything around them. The metal pipe, with blood glistening on the end, was resting next to the shadow’s leg. What a douche. Good riddance. He was honestly asking for it. Had been for years. Abruptly hearing noises from a street over, the shadow quickly eased into hiding, waiting and watching. The red-head would come out soon enough and then all bets were off. She was next. You can’t run from me, bitch.
Chapter One
Kresley Anderson was ready to explode. Southern women and rage did not mix well together, especially if you add the fact that she was a bona fide red head with an Irish ancestry. Grace was going to get an earful in the morning if she didn't have a good reason for trying to organize Kresley's well thought out disorganization. Picking up her smartphone, Kresley punched Grace's contact picture, maybe a little too hard. Putting the phone on speaker, she stared down at that silly smirk that Grace presented in her latest online profile. Kresley couldn't help but smile a little at the tiara on top of Grace's petite head of blond waves. What an epic birthday party that night was.
It was three years ago and her stomach still rolled at the thought of the massive hang over she had for two days after. She never could handle any type of alcohol and now she knew to just never touch the stuff again. Grace still hadn’t shown her all the pics she took to use as blackmail in the future. Kresley shuddered at what exactly those pics showed. Hopefully none with her sitting on the lap of the firefighter stripper that Grace had hired to entertain everyone. She had a vague recollection of how absolutely uncomfortable she had been sitting there, but did it to shut her sisters and Grace up. The poor stripper, who had hit on her the whole night, made the
