#344491 - And he knew what he’d see before he even looked down; the scratches on his chest were still bleeding, turning his shirt into a red crisscross. He wanted to hiss at her to keep it down, but on second thought, what did it matter? It would serve his wife right if she walked in on the two of them right now. *** Willie Beaser ran up the steps of the Brookwood house two of the time and pounded on the door.
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