Chapter 42

Jesse wasn’t a body to Gideon. He was his life. His anchor in a world that had finally started to seem less bleak. Why Michelle had such issues with that notion, he had no idea.

Gideon turned his gaze to the tiny bar positioned at the end of the street. Its dirt parking lot was nearly empty, but the strain of country music seeped through the cracks in the walls, drifting down the street in a semblance of civilization. His sources said the man he sought would be inside. Apparently, he spent most of his nights there. His days were a hodgepodge, road trips to nowhere in between odd jobs that paid for his whiskey-soaked evenings. He had a trailer three miles out of town that had two dogs roaming around, keeping strangers at bay. Even Gideon hadn’t been able to get too close, for fear of having to hurt one of the Rottweilers to shut him up.