(Belated) #TeaserTuesday - Boyle and Alex

 

Some day-late Teaser Tuesday action today, folks. Boyle hitting at the heart of Alex's insecurities and also inspiring murderous fantasies. I'm going to put the snippet under a cut since it's bristling with content warnings, from profanity to derogatory language. All very Dartmoor standard, but I won't leave it floating on the main page. 

Boyle is, let's face it, detestable. But I'm having lots of dark fun using him and his cronies to draw all the characters' doubts and fears into the light. 

**Note about release date: it obviously won't be August. Being sick really slowed me down, and I'm still dragging a little bit. But I'm working hard to make up for lost time, so it'll be soon! 

Unedited passage from Lord Have Mercy, Part II: Fortunate Son 
Copyright © 2023 by Lauren Gilley 

“Okay, so…” He sighed again, and propped his head on his knuckles. “I’ve been thinking. About making sure this all works out for everyone. With the least amount of harm done, at the end of it.”

Boyle paused, fork halfway to his mouth, then set it slowly back down. “You’ve been thinking,” he deadpanned. Then snorted. “Do you honestly expect me to buy that? That you, what, slept on it, and now you’re coming around?”

“No, I don’t expect you to believe me, but I’m gonna say what I have to say anyway. I talked to the wife.”

Another snort. “Ah. That little slut. She’s a real peach, isn’t she?”

Alex recalled the blue sheen of the security light on her eyes last night, the glittering defiance in them, the jut of her chin, and the arm wrapped tight around her boy. He’d known in that moment, squared off from her, that weapon or no, she’d kill him if she thought she had to. He could have wrapped his whole hand around her throat, but she’d showed it to him anyway, fearless and bristling like a cat, ready to leap and scratch at a moment’s notice.

He breathed through his anger, the twisting rage in his gut that made him want to stab Boyle in the eye with his own fork, and said, “She’s just scared.” The dismissive tone was an effort. “She’s in over her head with all of this, and she wants to look out for her kids.”

“Pfft. She’s lucky she’s not in the cell next to him for that gun stunt she pulled yesterday.”

“She’s not a felon, and this is an open carry state. There’s no grounds to arrest her for anything that happened.”

Boyle’s brows lifted, and a smile broke, slow and disbelieving, across a face that turned delighted. “No shit. No way.”

“What?”

“Did you bone this chick?” He laughed. “Son of a bitch. You did, didn’t you? You fucked your own sister-in-law! Ha!”

“No,” Alex said, with as scowl he didn’t have to fake. “I met her yesterday, and she’s married. What kinda sick freak do you think I am?”

“The kind who’s got a thing for leggy skanks. Like brother like brother, right?” He winked, and then sobered. Returned his attention to his food. “Relax. I don’t care about the wife. We’re not charging her with anything. Maybe raising those half-killer kids will teach her not to hitch her wagon to serial murderers in the future.”

Alex watched him spear a hunk of fried egg with his fork, and it was all too easy to imagine lunging across the table, punching him in the face to stun him; ripping his fork from his hand and driving it through his cheek. Easy to imagine the wet gasp, and the burst of blood out of his mouth, down onto his plate; the wide, fear-ringed whites of his eyes as he struggled to comprehend what had happened to him. From there, Alex would get to his feet, grab Boyle by the jaw, and drag him out of the booth. People would scream; tables would be knocked over as patrons hurried to get away from them. There would be the flash of cellphone cameras, and alarmed cries of “sir” and “oh my God.” None of it would matter once Alex got a knee on Boyle’s chest, and his thumbs in both his eyes. Would he scream, when Alex blinded him? Spit blood in his face? Struggle and kick? Or would he shudder and cry and plead?

Outwardly, Alex took a slow breath and said, “Speaking of the kids, that’s why I called you..."