Bleed Through by Arrington Adriana

Author:Arrington, Adriana [Arrington, Adriana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781620078372
Publisher: Curiosity Quills Press
Published: 2017-03-14T07:00:00+00:00

P, dead asleep on Liam’s lap, startled when the house phone rang. Though Liam didn’t want to answer the call, he couldn’t ignore it. Nobody would call but his mother, and she’d worry if he didn’t pick up. He slid the cat off his lap, walked into the kitchen, and pressed the speak button on the cordless.

“Liam?” Allison’s voice echoed over the line. Her cell must’ve been on speakerphone.

“The one and only.”

“Tasha wants to eat brunch at the O Club, so we’re headed over there. Would you like to join us?” His mother managed to sound sincere even though she couldn’t possibly want him to come.

“Nah. I’m not hungry.” He didn’t mention it somehow felt disloyal to his father’s memory to dine at an Officers’ Club when so many of his fondest family recollections revolved around brunches at NCO Clubs.

A barely audible sigh of relief whispered through the receiver. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yep. Enjoy your brunch.” He clicked off the phone and placed it back in its cradle.

With a mighty yawn, RP sauntered into the kitchen. He threaded between Liam’s legs, meowing at the kitchen door.

“Missing your girlfriend?”

RP meowed again.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

He opened the kitchen door, and RP bolted out, headed for his favorite bush. Green leaves shook as the cat’s tail disappeared under the shrub.

As Liam turned to go back inside, the rusted Schwinn caught his eye. The last time he’d ridden it, he’d cowered under Cull’s threats. His success putting Mrs. Channer in her place this morning emboldened him to investigate the man now. Nobody threatened him without consequences.

Besides, he had some newfound skills to show off.

Full of good intentions and ingenious solutions, he made a beeline to the family room. Like a favorable omen, Isaac’s plastic office access key dangled from the hall tree. Liam clipped it to his shirt and hurried out of the house. He didn’t bother to lock the door. The newest Mrs. Channer wasn’t a threat yet; the replica wouldn’t be fully fabricated until later. He hopped onto his bike and pedaled past her house, disappointed to see the only evidence of their encounter was the bloody path she’d left from her garden to her porch.

He navigated onto the bike path that lined Beacon Beach Road and kept his eyes trained two feet ahead of him. Otherwise, the gray concrete sidewalk resembled more an endless corridor to purgatory than a trail to the base’s professional sector.

Ultraviolet rays beat down on his skin, forming new blisters on the back of his hands. The asphalt road beside him morphed into a long snake that undulated under the late summer sun. Screams and shouts echoed through the woods.

The pine trees whispered, “We know who you are, Liam Murphy. You’re bad. Bad news, bad man, bad soul.”

He snorted. He could handle these voices. What he couldn’t handle was witnessing a teenage kid beat his dog to death. Today, he’d already passed the spot where the dreadful incident had occurred with no ill effects other than a bad taste in his mouth.

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