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Michael Malone - Weebly

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matchbook and stood, his fingers stretched on the table,<br />

his leg jerking against the table's leg. "Okay, okay, you<br />

here to do good, do me something, okay? They got me<br />

in there with a spade about a hundred years old, and<br />

the dude's flipped, I mean he's nuts, okay? I got to get<br />

him out of there. I can't hack that guy freaking on me in<br />

the middle of the fucking night." The voice accelerated,<br />

whirred higher. "I got to get things cooled out, I got to<br />

get back home."<br />

"You married?"<br />

The eyes dashed back to Hayes. "You stay the shit<br />

away from her, you got that? She's none of your fucking<br />

business!"<br />

"Sure. Sorry." Here was, Hayes thought, the<br />

quicksilver plunge he'd seen precipitant in Maynard<br />

Henry's body the whole time he'd been in the room.<br />

The bolting of the horse. "Listen, I'll ask the desk about<br />

the old man. Seems like the smartest thing, though,<br />

would be to find somebody to put up bond for you so<br />

you could get out yourself."<br />

"I'll get out, you'd better believe it. And you can tell<br />

that fat cop that I'm going to cream him. Okay? There's

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