I’m not suicidal. Although, living in Miami with an eighty-three-year-old woman who still thinks she needs childproof latches on the cupboards to protect me sometimes makes me yearn for the Great Beyond. I was elbow-deep in cleaning solution, remnants of fried chicken, and burned corn pone when I...
I knew I’d pay—the look in his eyes had said as much. His retribution for my blackmail would be hard and swift. But I didn’t care—couldn’t care. Not with Amanda on the line and the chance to bring Meena to justice finally, finally within my grasp. Another hour, and it woul...