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Owen sat in the dim light of a flashing neon sign, drinking away his severance pay at the local dive. A cruel smile lit his face at the image of the payroll clerk’s face when he came to collect his due. The little runt had turned red as a tomato when Owen wrapped his hand around his scrawny neck and lifted him up off the floor until his feet dangled. A rumble of laughter filled his chest with satisfaction. The company may not have wanted to pay him but the clerk couldn’t say no.
The burn of humiliation made the newly unemployed man grip his shot glass with barely contained anger. It never got any easier, being kicked out on his butt. Somehow, Laura had always softened the blow. As for the girl, she usually stayed out of his way. He grunted in disgust—she had been useless. But Laura...Owen motioned to the bar tender to fill the glass again and gulped it down, hoping its fire would help him forget that no one was waiting for him at home.
Deep in the Heart of Dixie Page 11
