san iadras ⁽³⁾

The gun wasn’t anything special. Schaltin had seen dozens of them for sale in Ecuador’s high Sierra. Little towns with centuries of history up in the mountains, places that should have been ski resorts, not black market arms markets. He turned the gun over. The…

She hadn’t broken up with Troy. Just a two week break. That’s why this was different. Why the day one pain, the knife in her heart, the thing cutting from the warmth under her belly to the cold in her throat, wasn’t pulling her to…

The fox kid in the suit ate like there was a hole in his neck, like it was impossible to fill his stomach. “Nobody cares,” the fox said, waving around a leg of chicken. “You run around here, you tell people that a Siberian gang…