No Way Out Fern Michaels (e reader books .TXT) 📖

In all directions. Same thing at the school. He wasn’t going to let that wretch ruin his life. And she sure wasn’t going to keep him from his kid. No. He’d figure out a plan.

He lit another cigarette and cracked open his thermos of coffee laced with bourbon. He checked his glove compartment to make sure he had the bottle of Listerine handy.

That was how he had gotten out of the past two DUI close calls. The only difference was that both of those times he didn’t have an open container in the car. When the flashing lights appeared in his rearview mirror, he had quickly grabbed for the mouthwash and taken a big swig. But he didn’t have an opportunity to spit it out so he had to swallow it. Man, did it burn. He had pulled his car over and rolled down the window. “Something wrong, Officer?”

“License, registration, and insurance, please.” The cop turned on his flashlight and waited.

“Of course.” He slowly reached up and pulled the registration and insurance from the visor clip. “My license is in my wallet. Give me a sec.” Mitchel wiggled his scrawny ass and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. It was a bit of a juggling act, but he didn’t want to get out of the car unless the officer instructed him to do so. He fiddled with the wallet and handed his license to the cop.

“I noticed you rolled through that last stop sign.” The officer aimed the flashlight toward the back seat, then the front.

“So sorry. My foot must have eased off the brake.” Mitchel tried to act composed and sober.

“I see you live a few miles from here. I’ll let you go with a warning, but you need to follow the rules.” The officer handed back Mitchel’s ID and papers.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Mitchel proceeded to put the items back into place and waited, hoping the cop would leave before he did. He pulled out his phone and pretended to make a phone call. Since he was parked on the side of the road, he wasn’t breaking any laws. At least not for being parked where he was. A few minutes later, the police car moved on. Mitchel gave a big sigh of relief, then smirked. Dumbass local yokels. Like they got nothin’ better to do.

Now staying with his brother in Manchester; he had better watch himself. Maybe find a bar that was within walking distance of his brother’s. He couldn’t always depend on Uber or Lyft. Most of those drivers were too drunk to drive. He snickered to himself and took another pull of his bourbon-laced beverage.

It was 8:15—time for the kid and the old lady to head to school. Technically, the cops could take him in if the kid and his mom walked past his car while he was in it, so he didn’t want to take a chance. He tossed his half-burned cigarette out the window, screwed the top back on the thermos, and started the car. He slowly moved away, toward the school and away from the house where they lived. But he knew she knew he was there. Every single day. If he couldn’t get near her, he was determined to get under her skin. He needed to think. He needed a plan.

He headed to the bowling alley to kill some time. He wasn’t going to bother to find a job. What for? He would figure out a way to grab Jackson and beat it out of town. He’d set them up in a new place. A place where no one could find them. He just had to figure out when and how. As long as his mother was supervising visits, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to pull it off. Even though she was his own mother, she would never go along with a scheme like that. She wanted Mitchel to file for joint custody and have them both live with her.

Like hell. She could be a bigger bitch than his soon-to-be ex-wife. Women. He probably hated all of them. The only thing they were good for was sex, and even then there wasn’t a whole lot of participation coming from their side. Hookers were the best for him. No-nonsense, and they did whatever you wanted them to do. For a price, of course. But since he had lost his job, he didn’t have the cash for the higher end. For now he had to settle for the skanks.

He parked his car in the bowling alley’s parking lot and noticed Clay’s truck in one of the spots. Clay was the village idiot. Not because he had a low IQ. Although that could be debated. It was because Clay did stupid things like try to swing on a rope tied to a tree, but instead of letting go and jumping in the water, he swung back and slammed into the tree. Or the Tide Pod Challenge. He bet $50 he could eat five of them. He won the bet, but he also ended up in the emergency room. Or trying to see what would happen if he lit firecrackers inside a metal bucket turned upside down. He was hoping for a mini bucket launch, but all he got was a bunch of flying scraps of metal and thirty stitches in his head. Of course, Clay had to see what a battery tasted like, and what would happen if he put a screwdriver in an electric socket. The guy was an idiot. And he would go along with any stupid idea anyone suggested.

Mitchel thought for a minute. Clay just might come in handy at some point. He’d keep it in mind as he was formulating a plan. For the moment, he had to behave until the hearing following his arrest. Domestic violence. That was bull. She was a nag. If only she had shut up, he wouldn’t have grabbed her. If only she had stayed put, he wouldn’t have tried