“Please, arrest me. I’d rather go to jail than go back to that house…”

out a breathless, panicked squeak, stumbling backward a half-step. But Brad didn’t panic. As the cop stepped toward him, opening his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, Brad’s expression shifted. He subtly, deliberately reached his right hand deep into the inner breast pocket of his wet wool coat. He didn’t look at the cop. His eyes locked onto continue reading …