Richard wiped grime from the glass door and pinched it between his fingers. He studied the dead scorpions inside; their dried-out shells were brittle and translucent, their venom no longer a threat, but something else was there, something familiar. He couldn’t name it, but it reminded him of the time he had complained to Katherine about her being restless in bed. Not wanting to be outdone, she immediately accused him of the same thing. That was their reality: a competition bordering on violence, which was what sleeping with her was like: two scorpions in a shoebox, scratching and clawing each other all night long.
“We’ve got trouble right here in River City,” Richard said, looking up. “What do you mean?” “Betrayal, that’s what I mean.”Excerpt from The Gringo, part of the Mercury trilogy. Order your copy here.
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