Combative

Combative

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing1h 17m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, May 13, 2015
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Fiction
Romance
COMBATIVE Copyright © 2015 Jay Mclean Published by Jay McLean All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work. Published: Jay McLean 2015 Cover Design: Ari at Cover it! Designs
All Rights Reserved
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All I wanted to do was get a pair of combat boots. Black ones. I walk into the shoe store then walk to the aisle with combat boots. I've been here so many times to stare at them that I have the aisle memorized. I'm Dylan, Dylan Daniels. My family isn't poor. If you could call it a family. It's Mom and I in a townhouse. It's just my mom is a workaholic and I'm lucky if I see her for a minute. Some eighteen year olds would get high or drunk every night. She's not my mom, she took me in when my parents got in a car accident. She tells me to call her mom. In my case I work at Roquefield Towers as a receptionist from 1:30-5:00. If I ever want to buy anything I have to pay for it. Including food, any food. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks. I walk to the Checkout Line, four people in front of me. I wait. When it's my turn, five men/guys in black clothing and black ski-masks walk in with guns aimed all directions.

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