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The sight of the killer wrenched Crow’s mind into disjointed shapes It was ier’s face was as white asa thin-​lipped smile Crow opened his er’s other hand shot out and clamped like an icy vise around Crow’s throat

"Shhhhhh!" he said, leaning close to Crohisper "Youthroat out You know I can do it, too…don’t you?"

The hands on his arm and throat were iripped the wrist of the hand holding his throat, but it was like clapping onto an iron bar The cold flesh didn’t yield at all and the tendons and er leaned forward and pressed Crow back against his pillow, still leaning close so that his ed line of broken teeth--the teeth he’d kicked out after he’d driven Ruger headfirst into Missy’s fender The man’s lips were so red they looked painted and his skin was colorless and ser’s breath…he reeked Each exhale was like a dahterhouse He smelled of spoiled er whispered in his slithery voice "It ain’t your tiot better plans for you" He chuckled "No…because of you I lost everything My money, my dope, and those teet sluts at that farmhouse Was that broken-​nosed bitch yours? Val? Was she yours?" He shook Crow by the throat, squeezing harder Black poppies bloo away fro you care about, every-​one you love, everything you own…I’ to take it away from you How’s that sound?" He squeezed harder and Crow started beating at the wrist, s at it with his balled-​up fist--but it was like ha on a tree li, when everything you love is either dead or in ashes, then I’ainst the grip, but it was like fighting a statue Ruger squeezed harder

"And the real fun part is…I’ for the bullet" He pu…for…it!"

The pressure on Crow’s throat was robbing his ares of his vision and he could feel hie black nothing

He felt the hand on his shoulder Light, tentative, gentle--and he caled in sheets and IV tubes

Val screa to avoid his swings

"Crow!" she cried, and the voice co from her bruised throat was a horribly feer’s icy whisper "Crow--stop it!"

Crow’s eyes snapped wide and sanity cahththt here Warm and real

He sat up and took her in his arhtly as his bruises and hers would allow "Oh ave her hair and face and lips a thousand sed hi minute they just sat there, as connected to each other as will and closeness would allow She wept against him, her tears hot on the side of his neck, and he wept, too Her grief and pain were as real to him as if they were his own, and he did have his own Henry Guthrie had been a far better father to him than his own had ever been and he still could not accept that he was gone Just…gone The loss of hih his chest

Finally, slowly, and by degrees, their tears slowed and stopped and they released the dreadful intensity of their eot tissues for them both from the box on the bedside table, and sat back a bit She wore a thin pink robe over a hospital gown Her hair was unwashed and her left arht hand and Crow suspected that she had removed the tube and slipped out of her roohtly on his torn lips and again on the forehead, closing her eyes and holding her soft lips there He stroked her tangled hair and th, she sat back again and looked at hiht eyes Her face was bruised and scratched and puffy frorief had carved new lines around her mouth, and her beautiful face had a pinched quality that broke Crow’s heart

"Daddy…" she began and then her face crurief and she buried her head into his chest again

"I know, baby," Crow murmured, "I know" Tears burned in his eyes, crested, and broke, spilling down his face and into her hair

"Oh…Crohy him?" She raised her head "Why Daddy?"

He just shook his head

"He never hurt anyone, Crow" She screwed up her face and looked at him "He made me run, he saved my life"