Chapter 33 The Angel Is Mine

• Without missing a beat, I wrench open the driver’s side door. It only takes a split second to register the slight resemblance to Angel and confirm it’s her father. He’s already lifting his gun, but I’m ready for it. I catch his wrist in my hand and twist with all of my strength, snapping the bone and making him squeal like a baby. The gun lands down near his feet and I have it in my hands in seconds, cocked and pointing at a spot right between his eyes.
• “Don’t shoot,” he begs, fear slackening his features. “Please.”
• “Believe me when I say if there were no witnesses on this interstate, you would already be dead. I would drag your sorry carcass out into this desert and leave you for the buzzards to feast on. But the police would take me away from her. And no one, no fucking one is ever going to separate me from that girl.” I move in close, wedging the muzzle of the gun to the center of his forehead, my finger aching to pull the trigger.