Excerpt
“Your old dollhouse aint nothing but a box of dust. Mama dont ever pay it no mind.” I nodded, too flustered to argue. Slade gently uncurled my clenched, sweaty fingers. “Here,” he insisted, lifting the gun from Foleys hand and wrapping my fingers around the weapons short barrel. “Youre Fos only cuz, Nell. This is family helping family, kind of like your aunt was talking about the other day. Cmon, Nell, be good to your own flesh and blood.”
Foley was breathing heavily. His hands, now firmly wrapped around the can of night crawlers, were twitching.
I swallowed again, harder than before. The Raven .25 was heavy as a rock, and cold against the clammy skin of my palm. My whole body had gone stiff, and something had snatched my voice right out of my throat. I couldnt speak. But like a puppets arm on a string, my hand lowered the gun into the pocket of my sundress.