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ISBN: 9781457503559
264 pages
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Chapter 1: Throwing Stones

“Go ahead and shoot me if you think you have the balls!” Bianca shouts at Rachel, who is standing on the adjacent side of the cramped living room, while Kelli struggles frantically to wrestle the gun away. The oversized furniture in the tiny space leaves no room for the thrashing bodies to maneuver without bumping into the sofa or loveseat or tumbling over an accent piece.

“No, Rachel, you don’t want it to end this way!” Kelli begs. “Think about your future, girl. You’ve got too much to live for! Think about your parents. This’ll kill them! Your father’s the pastor of a church. His only child can’t spend the rest of her life in prison! Just think about it, please!” Kelli says, sweating profusely as she struggles in a tugof- war with Rachel, who is at least four inches taller and more than fifty pounds heavier than she. The two have already knocked two pictures off the wall and tumbled over a plant resting on a delicate iron plant stand.

“Rachel, you don’t want to disappoint Mrs. Pettigrew and Rev. Pettigrew, do you?” Bianca teases, using a four-year-old’s whining voice instead of that of a grown woman. “Oh, no, not their perfect little daughter with all of her fancy education, successful career and big bank account. Why, that would just devastate the perfect Pettigrew family.”

“Shut up! You’re just jealous because you’re ignorant, unemployed and broke!” Rachel yells back at Bianca, cutting her to the core.

“Whoa! Such nasty words coming from the good pastor’s daughter. Where did you learn that type of language—in Sunday school or bible study?” Bianca asks with an evil smile spread wide across her face.

Rachel twists her face harshly and replies, “The same place you learned to be a prostitute—from your stepfather!”

Bianca takes the argument over the top by saying with a sad expression, “I’m surprised that a barren bitch like you could come up with something so clever, yet so low down.”

“No more!” Kelli shouts. Facing Bianca, she demands, “Bianca, shut your mouth; just shut up!” Then, turning her attention to Rachel, she pleads, “Please, Rachel,” as sweetly as honey dripping from her lips, yet never releasing her grip from the weapon. “Please put down the gun.”

Instead of the surrender she hoped to get from Rachel, a long stream of tears begin to flow from Rachel’s eyes, cascading her smeared mascara down her cheeks and splattering and discoloring her white silk blouse.

“She thinks I don’t have the guts,” Rachel says calmly. “She thinks I won’t do it,” she says in a near whisper. “But I will. I swear I’ll kill her,” Rachel says, resuming her effort to regain control of the gun. With one swift move, Rachel and Kelli knock over a crystal lamp from a side table. It crashes onto the hardwood floor breaking into a million tiny pieces.

As Rachel and Kelli fight for possession of the 9-millimeter handgun, Bianca stands in place, hands on hips, poking out her swollen belly that holds her first child due in less than one month. You would think in such a delicate condition, Bianca would set her butt down, shut her mouth and show some sense. But not her! Bianca has to show her behind, eight months pregnant and all.