“Anything I can do?”she asked.
“Nope,” he answered.
She jerked her head so her hair slid to one side and lookedup at him out of the sides of her eyes.
“You sure?”
Laid out, ass up, pussy dripping.
Her invitation was not veiled.
He grinned at her.
“Nope.”
She grinned back and wiggled her ass.“Take your time,Mulder.”
His drifting fingers slid between her legs.“You betterbelieve it, Scully.”
She bit her lip.
He started playing with her clit.
Slowly, his old lady closed her eyes.
And nothing penetrated, not rival bike clubs, not dealing,pimping psychopaths, not what was left for them on that picnic table, not theshift happening in the Club.
The world was small.
In the scheme of things, tiny.
Just Snapper and his Rosalie.
But it was about to crack open.
Open wide.
Sucking them all into a dark void of insanity.
It was raining hard.
He was soaked.
His throat was choked.
His hair was straggling in his eyes, eyes that were blinkingaway the hair and the wet.
And the blood.
His hands were in fists, including the one with its fingerscurled around the butt of his gun.
And Everett “Snapper” Kavanagh stared.
This was it.
The end was near.
And by what he was right then seeing, what had just beendone, something that had already been hideously nasty was going to getseriously…fucking…ugly.
