Page 22 of Living Hell

She nodded and tried to hold me back as I reached for the knob. Whoever was trying to intimidate Iona was going to answer to me and my fist in their face and my foot up their ass.

Opening the door, there were blinding pops of light everywhere. I held up my hand to shield the glare as I waited for my eyes to adjust.

There were more than one. At least five people moved closer and up onto the porch. That’s when I heard them.

“Are you Tyler Ferguson?”

“Is it true that you’re taking I.D. to court over a house?”

“Mr. Ferguson, isn’t it true that you run a puppy mill?”

“Why are you holding I.D. hostage?”

I slammed the door, staring at the glint of the brass handle.

“I’m sorry.” Iona grimaced.

As much as I wanted to stay in this house, I wondered if I would ever be able to leave.

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