Dangerous Read Free Page A

him in the windpipe.
    “Jesus!” the man screamed and threw his hand in front of his face to block.
    Xan’s knuckles stopped a fraction of an inch from pulverizing the man’s airway. He blinked, let go, and backed away. “Sorry. I thought….”
    “What the fuck is wrong with you?” The man rolled away and scrambled to his feet, running for the office. “I’m calling the police.”
    “I’m sorry. I….” He shook his head. He’d been seconds from taking the man’s life. Would’ve killed him had he not screamed and snapped him out of it. Maybe the police should come get him? Arrest him. Xan’s heart began to pound again. Didn’t matter, they wouldn’t hold him long.
    They’d pull up his records, see a lot of blacked-out data, get a call from somewhere in Washington, ordering them to stop digging around on his background and set him free. Within minutes he’d be back where he started, moving on down the road, no less fucked in the head.
    Xan walked to the office, threw the door open, and strode in while the man babbled on the phone to someone. He reached into his pocket then handed the man a business card with a number only. “Tell them to call this person.” He held the card up between two fingers.
    The man looked at it and sneered. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do. When I get off the phone with the police, I’m calling my lawyer.”
    “I don’t have anything you can sue me for. I’m homeless.” Xan shrugged. “I have PTSD. I’m sorry. You surprised me.”
    “You need to be locked up. You’re sick, man. You could have hurt me.”
    “I could have killed you.” No sense in glossing over it. “But I didn’t.” Xan took the phone from his grip and put it to his ear. “Are you from local law enforcement? Please call this number and give them my serial number before you dispatch a squad car.” He recited the fake social security identification they’d given him when he joined years ago. “It will save you a boatload of aggravation and paperwork. I’m in room 155 and unarmed.” He hung up the phone and frowned, hating to use the get-out-of-jail-free card, but at least he wouldn’t be locked up, unable to escape. His worst nightmare. Who knew what he’d do if he completely snapped and lost it?
    “Who the hell are you?”
    “You don’t want to know, and I can’t tell you.” They may or may not call the number in Washington, but they always dispatched an officer. Xan walked barefoot back to his room, left the door open, and laid down on the bed, lifting his arms and tucking his hands behind his head, returning to staring at the ceiling. He didn’t have any weapons, but he also didn’t need one. Xan got rid of them long before, knowing the combination of his instability and lethal weapons were a bad mix.
    The sounds of sirens in the distance grew louder. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
    And here we go.
    The squad car pulled in. Seconds later, the siren stopped. The car backed up and left.
    So, they decided to call. Time to leave. Saved him a trip to the station and the bullshit which always followed, ultimately leading to his release. Xan hopped up and stuffed his clothes in his rucksack. He slipped on his combat boots and drew the laces tight, wrapping them around the tops a couple times before securing them. He hefted his bag up onto his shoulders, clipped and tightened the strap across his hips, and walked out the door, shutting it with a click behind him. He didn’t look back.
    Birds chirped and flitted about. The air carried the sweet scent of fresh blooming hyacinths. Spring, a time of renewal and starting over and the irony didn’t escape him. Salt on the blacktop crunched under his thick rubber soles. A sign winter hadn’t quite relinquished its hold, regardless if the local wildlife felt it had.
    The Black Hills called to him, serenading him like a Siren to a sailor. He could no longer ignore the call. Who knew what waited for him at home, having left Magnum