She’d gotten very creative about expressing how uninterested she was. “Drunken rednecks,” John muttered. “I fucking hate him,” Heather agr...ed. “I can’t believe—” she started, but then stopped. The three of them had been having such a great conversation, she didn’t want to spoil it by bitching about old boyfriends who weren’t worth the time of day. As she watched Jimmy stumble away, she realized she dodged a major bullet. If she remembered correctly, he had two ex-wives now. Heather was. That's him. I try to crane my head backwards, hoping for a glimpse. Instead, unyielding fingers surround the base of my neck, removing my ability to do anything except look straight ahead.I'm forced to pause, and in that moment Miranda's grip on my wrist is gone.I'm alone. Well, nearly alone, except for the hulking dark shape that wanes and waxes in my peripheral vision as the crowd moves to the beat.Surrounded by their bodies, it's almost impossible to move. If not for the quick glimpse. More

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