Read Online Feral by Brian Knight - Free Book Online

re-holstered it.   “Remember,” he said, “be cool.   Let me do the talking.   I’m the mediator here, it’s one of the things you pay me for.”   He pulled the keys from the Cady’s ignition and stuffed them deep into his pocket.   “If there’s any trouble you just stand the hell back and let me handle it.”
    He watched Gordon with an unshakable intensity, looking for signs of potential trouble.   It was clear he didn’t intend to go any further until Gordon showed his complete understanding of the rules.
    â€œI understand,” Gordon said.   “Let’s go.”
    â€œGood,” Charles said, and stepped out into the muggy darkness.   It was a half-block walk to the house, and as before, Charles took in everything around him.   He checked every window briefly for that fabled Nosy Neighbor; he was alert to every shrub and hiding place along the way; he checked behind them every few seconds for some previously unseen presence.   Mostly though, he watched the bright, shaded windows of Shannon and Jared’s house.   He just couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had that the wild card in the whole god-awful mess was about to play itself.   He couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that everything was about to turn to shit.
    Gordon followed a step behind Charles, hands shoved in his pockets and clenched into fists.   Being cool had never been so hard in his life.   He had the same uneasy feeling that Charles did.   Only he had a name for it, and a face.   Though not a superstitious man, the dream he had earlier was now very much on his mind, nagging his every step.
    They turned up the walkway, and as he mounted the steps behind Charles felt a sudden rush of warm air.   Warmer than the muggy night air, it made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand and his balls draw up like small cowardly animals scenting danger.   Following that warm current, a whisper so soft he thought it must be the work of his anxious mind, or a vivid fragment of that terrible dream.
    Charity .
    Â 
    W hen the doorbell rang they both jumped a little, exchanging embarrassed glances that belied the brave and prepared front they tried to maintain.   They waited a moment, hoping whoever it was would go away, but it rang again.
    â€œYou get it,” Jared whispered.   “I’ll wait here.”
    Shannon couldn’t imagine who it might be; they were not social people, had maybe a handful of good friends between them, but no close ones.   She could think of no one who might have a reason to come over this late.
    It couldn’t possibly be Charity’s Bogey Man , Shannon thought.   He couldn’t know where she is, and if it were him, he wouldn’t knock .
    The bell rang a third time as she reached the door.   She stood there for a moment, suddenly wishing for a peephole.
    â€œYes!” she shouted, turning the dead bolt home with a loud click.   She saw the chain lock hanging against the doorjamb, and locked it too.
    â€œI’m looking for Shannon Pitcher,” said a deep voice on the other side of the door.
    â€œSpeaking,” Shannon shouted back.   “What do you want?”
    â€œCould you open the door and let us in?   We need to talk to you about your daughter.”
    For the past three months the mere mention of Alicia was enough to bring tears.   The reason she lived with Jared was because it had become difficult to fight the suicidal impulses.   For all her brother’s faults, and there were many, Jared had been strong enough to keep her alive through the worst time of her life.   She knew the bad times, the depressions and moods, weren’t close to being over yet, and maybe they never would be, but she was still alive, and stronger now than three months ago.
    Tonight the mention of her daughter had a new effect on her, a galvanizing effect.   “Fuck