Page 27 of Dark Visions

“I’m okay,” he said quietly, looking at the small woman at Kane’s side.

“Oh, this is Aislinn, my girlfriend,” he said proudly.

Flip couldn’t help but let a small grin slip. Kane was so fucked up the last time he saw him that he never suspected he would find anyone that would make him settle down.

“Hi,” he said shyly.

She didn’t reach for his hand, and he was grateful but also curious as to why. Something about this woman put his senses on alert. It wasn’t an evil alert but something more protective.

“Dude, it’s so fucking good to see you. You’ve lost some weight. You look great!”

Flip looked down at his loose-fitting jeans and the baggy sweatshirt and shrugged. He knew that he wasn’t the man that Kane remembered. His usually close-cropped black hair was long, held tight in a ponytail at his neck. The sparse beard made his face look older, slivers of gray filtered throughout.

“I didn’t mean anything, Flip. You really look great. Why don’t you join us for breakfast?” he said.

“I just ate, but thanks. I really need to get back.”

“Where are you staying?” Kane reached for his arm and held tightly.

“I-I have a motor home, and I’m parked at the campground off Westfield and 30.”

“Jesus! That’s like seven miles from here. Why don’t you let me drive you back?”

“No, it’s okay. I like the walk, and it helps me clear my head,” he said quietly.

Aislinn eyed the big man, looking up into his dark eyes. Kane was tall, at least six-foot-three, but Flip was easily two or three inches taller and a good forty pounds heavier. She didn’t sense evil from him, but she did sense sadness. Uncharacteristically, she reached out and gripped his hand.

Kane was so surprised his mouth literally opened and formed a perfect ‘O.’ Aislinn held his hand and smiled up at the big man.

“It’s okay, you know,” she said quietly, smiling. “I’m different, too.”

Flip stepped back, jerking his hand away from the woman. She couldn’t know. How could she ever know he was different?

“I have to go.”

“Flip, brother, please. Here, take my card. I’d like to stay in touch. I might need some help here soon.”

Fuck! You never refused a brother in need. Flip nodded and took the card.

“I’ll give you my number,” he said solemnly, “but I have to tell you I rarely answer my phone.”

“Fair enough, brother,” said Kane. “I just want to be able to get in touch with you if I need to.” Flip nodded and started to walk away. Aislinn called out to him, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

“I like the tribal tattoos. I know they have significance for you. They’re beautiful.” He frowned at her, nodding as they turned and entered the café.

Aislinn was indeed a strange woman, but what really had Flip perplexed was that his tattoos, hidden beneath his sweatshirt, covering his chest and arms, were invisible to her.

What the fuck!?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Krauss looked at the scene of the playroom they had occupied for the last several hours. Hardly a speck of the room wasn’t covered in blood. The mutilated bodies of the couple were literally scattered around the room. His stomach churned, and he knew that things were getting out of hand. His little vixen’s blood lust was out of control. This was not what he signed up for.

Still lying on the floor, her legs spread wide, blood covering her body, she gripped the dead man’s penis in her hand. The agony the man felt when she sliced his still-hard dick from his body must have been unimaginable. She danced around the room swinging the appendage in the air and then did unspeakable things with it. Even for him, it was more than he could handle.

His phone vibrated, and he looked down at the number.

Shit!

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