Alyssa, that stupid whore, nearly ruined everything. Rage, burning and fierce rushed through Bethany, scratching at her brain, screeching like a banshee's wail when Alyssa tried warning Connor. Almost made a big mistake letting Alyssa speak with him, but the pleasure of making him squirm, feeding him clue after clue with the knowledge he chased his tail, that was bloody perfect. The disposable cell phone battery indicated low power when she illuminated the screen. No problem, like a Boy Scout, she was prepared. She was so much smarter than they knew. From her pocket she pulled another prepaid phone, one she'd already programmed Connor's number into, the outgoing number blocked, just like every phone she carried. Alyssa's sobs ended for a few minutes. Only an occasional sniffle filled the eerily quiet room. This small concrete and cinderblock building wasn't much to look at, but this was her special place. The only other person she'd shared it with was Mickey—he'd loved the isolation. Nobody around for miles to hear the screams.
