I tried to pull the skirt down, but I was lying on too much of it. Richard fell again, slid in the damp autumn leaves, slid until a tree stopped him, sudden, and abrupt and bruising. The man who'd sexually abused them as children, pimped them out to other pedophiles, and even put them in films. I'd given him a direct order.
So I moved a little into the booth, close enough that she could see me over his shoulder. I was making a drive-through, like we're supposed to. Seeing it from Jean-Claude's point of view was uncomfortable and made me want to slide away, but he whispered through my mind, while my mouth tasted Micah's skin. Damian's nails ripped through my skin as he tried to hold on.
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