I’ve got Chapter 3 of Staring at the Sun up on Wattpad now. It’s been an eventful week, with son’s birthday party Sunday, getting our internet fixed on Monday, and kids back to school on Tuesday. Then, me trying to get settled into a routine now that I have the house to myself all day once again. That shouldn’t be too difficult, just trying to figure out the best way to fit everything in. But, now, here’s the beginning of Chapter 3.
Henry Kearns stepped out of his cruiser and headed for the front of the store. He still walked with a limp, and his knee ached like a bitch almost constantly, but he’d tossed away the cane he’d been using. His doctor suggested he keep it, but fuck that. As long as he used it, the department would keep him on medical leave. He couldn’t take that anymore.
He wasn’t going to let that bastard Hartson keep on winning.
He was off duty now and should be in his recliner already, taking his weight off this knee. He’d remembered on the way there, he wouldn’t have anything to eat as soon as he walked in the door. After a year, he should damn well be used to it. Sometimes he still forgot Cassandra wouldn’t be waiting for him, putting a hot dinner on the table as soon as he came inside.
He’d taught her that lesson well.
She’d still left him. For fucking Hartson. He thought she’d learned how that would go for her twenty years ago. Should never have let the little punk out of a cell. But Sheriff Vallis had been sure he’d stay away. And, well, he had. Just not long enough. If Henry ever got his hands on Trace again, he’d pay for ever bringing Grady Hartson back into their lives.
He walked through the store to the prepared foods section. Several people lifted their hands to him in a wave as he passed. People around here respected him. As they damn well should. He picked up a small roasted chicken from the warmer and a small cup of fried potatoes. That would work. If he hadn’t already passed the diner, he would have stopped there like he had most nights.
“It’s good to see you up and about, Deputy Kearns,” the cashier said.
He nodded back at her, not bothering with a thanks or even a glance at her name tag. What did any of that matter to him?
“It’s a shame they never caught the men who broke into your place and shot you.”
Henry barely held back a snort. He couldn’t believe everyone bought that shit he’d shoveled out a year ago. He’d waited for that little punk to follow through with his threat to expose what he knew about Henry’s dealings for months. Nothing had ever come of it. Little fucker had probably only been bluffing. He couldn’t have known any of that.
He walked back out into the parking lot and heard the roar of a motorcycle. That sound always made a chill flash over him. He couldn’t help looking for the source of it. It was never Grady. Or any of his accomplices. He so wanted to take at least one of them down, haul them in, get whatever he could from them before he found a way to lock them up for the rest of their miserable lives.
If you want to read the rest of the chapter, just head over this way. I’ll have Chapter 4 up next week.