J Z Morrison Press on Smashwords
Copyright © 2013 by Jill Morrison
Cover art by http://depositphotos.com
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The morphine had just taken hold, dialing down the pain just as the turn of a valve closed off the steam. Nica didn't want to come up, out, of the safe, sweet place she had just gotten to. Robert would just have to go away.
“Miss Veronica.” His voice wove through the cicada song. “Miss Veronica.”
But he wouldn't go away. He knew the rules. Otherwise, he would not be bothering her.
When Nica opened her eyes, the world was drained of color. Aunt Blossom's pool, brick wall, tile patio, rimmed with ash and elm trees harboring anxious, horny insects, were all flat white, tinted the palest green by her sunglasses. She turned her head in the direction of Robert's voice. “What is it?”