Chapter 7 Teaser
Well, it's been a year but as promised we didn't give it up. Chapter 7 is about half done and the rest of the story in planed out. We are posting a teaser to thank you for being so incredibly patient and sticking with us and Dave over the break.
Getting to Tori's felt like one of the longest drives of his life, and all Dave could think about, as he griped the wheel hard enough to cramp his hands, was Jo and the immeasurable guilt that washed over him whenever he let her name linger in his mind. He knew there was more to this than a social call or a good scolding. Things where happening higher up than he suspected Fletch even knew about. He didn't know exactly what, but he knew Tori and she never fucked around. From what she said earlier, Tori was dead serious. He might be that only one who could talk her out of bringing Hell right to their front door, but free of outside influences, and with Jo's face etched upon his mind, he wasn't to sure he wanted to stop Tori. If he was honest with himself, he wanted this to end. It was no way to live, being fed off of. He had come to view people as a kind of vampire, draining his very blood for their own benefit.
Dave came up on the tall red brick house fast and he almost drove past it. The Dew Drop wasn't easy to miss-a large building with imposing architecture and exquisitely kept by the lady of the house-but at the same time it blended with it's surroundings like a large cat lounging in the tall grass. The analogy made Dave feel mouseish and apprehensive. Neither of them were the same as before-they were older, and each more than a little bit bitter. He jammed the car into park and it lurched forward a bit, protesting the rough treatment. Dave swore slightly and killed the engine. He sat in silence for a long moment, parked on the street and briefly entertaining the thought of just starting the engine again and driving back to Soho, the club and the things he knew how to deal with. But that wouldn't work. He knew she would just come to him, and maybe this time she would bring Hell and all its angels in her wake.
Getting to Tori's felt like one of the longest drives of his life, and all Dave could think about, as he griped the wheel hard enough to cramp his hands, was Jo and the immeasurable guilt that washed over him whenever he let her name linger in his mind. He knew there was more to this than a social call or a good scolding. Things where happening higher up than he suspected Fletch even knew about. He didn't know exactly what, but he knew Tori and she never fucked around. From what she said earlier, Tori was dead serious. He might be that only one who could talk her out of bringing Hell right to their front door, but free of outside influences, and with Jo's face etched upon his mind, he wasn't to sure he wanted to stop Tori. If he was honest with himself, he wanted this to end. It was no way to live, being fed off of. He had come to view people as a kind of vampire, draining his very blood for their own benefit.
Dave came up on the tall red brick house fast and he almost drove past it. The Dew Drop wasn't easy to miss-a large building with imposing architecture and exquisitely kept by the lady of the house-but at the same time it blended with it's surroundings like a large cat lounging in the tall grass. The analogy made Dave feel mouseish and apprehensive. Neither of them were the same as before-they were older, and each more than a little bit bitter. He jammed the car into park and it lurched forward a bit, protesting the rough treatment. Dave swore slightly and killed the engine. He sat in silence for a long moment, parked on the street and briefly entertaining the thought of just starting the engine again and driving back to Soho, the club and the things he knew how to deal with. But that wouldn't work. He knew she would just come to him, and maybe this time she would bring Hell and all its angels in her wake.