Abe finished his morning inspection, then returned and stopped in front of my bed. “Whatcha have there, Max?” He extended his hand toward my pocket, waiting for me to produce its contents.
“None of your business, Abe, and you know it.”
Abraham Tate wasn’t really a bully, but sometimes power went to his head. That didn’t sit well, what with him being nosey and all. Plus, he seemed to think our lives were all like a plot in one of those penny dreadfuls he was always reading.
The boy next to me snickered. “It’s a picture of his daddy.” Tommy Jacobson. Now he was a bully.
Not to worry, I do plan on coming back to post another snippet from this one next week. But why wait? Pick up a copy of Escape using the links above!
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