“It doesn’t matter,” Justin replied, feigning a deep interest in a piece of paper as he again tried to inch away. “There wasn’t anything you could do for her. The evidence was too solid.”


“And I’m telling you that I did it!” Louis snarled as he slammed his left hand on the desk, dropping one of the crutches in the process. “Why won’t you listen to me?!”


With a pitiful shake of his head, Justin spoke. “Don’t lose your head over some peasant girl. I know you may not be as desirable as some young men, but surely your assets are worth enough to find a suitable wife.”


Louis was not a violent man nor one to lose his temper in such short order. But after four days of that horrible place, four days of seeing Torrie in misery, four days to reconsider his friendships, and now Plasser’s outright insults, it was over. His blood could only boil so high until it spilled out into visceral rage. Feeling his left hand curl, his body adjusted his balance on the opposing crutch. And then, not even a second later, his fist made crushing contact with Justin’s nose.


--from "Missing in Action" Chapter Nine

July 2006
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