Good morning all! It's time for another little snippet from Victory Cove...
Jake wrenched the vehicle into park. He didn’t take the time to kick the mud off the bottom of his boots as he climbed onto the porch. Two loud raps on the door and an urgent “Megan” produced no results.
He yanked the screen open and tried the brass handle, but it was locked. He pounded the mottled wood, and was nearly tempted to kick it in when a shadow passed by the single pane of glass. The handle clicked beneath his touch and on the screech of a hinge, the front door swung open.
The ghost of Wakefield House greeted him with ocean blue eyes that could make a man believe in an afterlife.
Neither spoke. The exchange was much more vivid without words to divest it. Megan stood at the door, much like the first time he saw her. An oversized sweater made her appear vulnerable, while her fingers clutched the doorframe with a tenacity that pained him. Although, this time her free hand was wrapped around the barrel of an automatic weapon.
Jake only briefly acknowledged these details before he returned to her eyes. They shined with recently shed tears and in these misty layers he felt he could see directly into Megan’s soul.
For the longest time, they simply stood there, locked in place by the power of this silent exchange. This look they shared said,
“Put your cards on the table. Now, are you going to fold, or are you going to up the ante?”
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/7274