We use cookies
When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Your cookies settings
Strictly cookie settingsAlways Active
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Teresa’s truck was a lot faster than Nightbolt’s, but it was still slower than I liked. I drove it as fast as I could, but it seemed to take an eternity for us to get to Nightbolt’s house. It didn’t help that my body still ached from where I’d been shot twice. The spots didn’t hurt quite as badly as they had at first, but I knew I’d be feeling this in the morning … assuming I lived that long, that is. Finally, Nightbolt’s house came into view. It looked ordinary from a distance, but as we got closer, I noticed more and more signs of a struggle. The front door stood open; the gate around the house had been knocked off its hinges; Camel’s car was parked at the gate, while Nightbolt’s truck stood where it always did. Even Spike’s doghouse had been knocked over, though Spike
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD
