She'd talk about Kathleen's new hair style until I wanted to barf.Did she talk about me? No. Was I jealous? Probably. Dad never talked or bragged abou... any of the kids. Then again, dad never talked about much of anything. I doubt he'd said five hundred words to me in the last year.As soon as I got out of my car the next morning, I knew there was going to be trouble. Wilson and Silvers were standing where they'd been a couple of days before. With them were Bill Simpson and Tony Gates, two more. Fondling my sex in the peripheral of society.I risked a glance over my shoulder, ensuring the women behind me were still immersed in their talk. My hand moved a little faster, then, came to an instant halt when the little bell above the door rang as someone entered.In the brief moment the door was ajar, the smell and sound of rain filled the room. He was tall. A gentleman dressed in a wool coat, black scarf hanging over his broad shoulders. I picked up my mug, other hand still buried deep in my. More

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