The Car Bomb (The detroit im dying Trilogy, Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

just for you tonight.”
    “ Well, I can’t wait to see what it looks like tossed on a chair.”
    Kissing her softly, he knew from the way her beautiful head lolled back on his arm that everything would be just fine.

Chapter 10
    The Sunday morning sun rose in a clear sky over the shimmering lake behind a large Bloomfield Hills home. At a fashionably distressed French farmhouse table, Marci, mid-40s in sweats, her dark blond hair in a clip, gazed at the sparkling water, looking for inspiration through the large picture window in her kitchen. She and 16-year-old Bobby, in jeans, a Nirvana “Nevermind” t-shirt and bare feet, were sharing the Free Press.
    Her face still pretty but faded and settled, the woman gave up on inspiration and reached for the MinuteMaid. Bobby was lean and handsome, but his complexion was sallow, and his eyes were hooded at the moment.
    “ More juice, honey?”
    A silent scowl at a folded-over page.
    Still holding the carton: “Bobby, how about more juice?”
    The boy finally looked up. “No thanks, Mom. You see Wil Barnes today?”
    Marci put the carton down. “Reading Barnes is against my religion.”
    “ He’s got another thing in here about Dad.”
    “ Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
    Bobby read aloud: “‘The Sun King was jousting for the honor of his lady fair, or somebody’s lady fair, Friday evening at the posh Black Knight Inn. Channel 5 eminence Frank DeFauw decked a young swain in the Knight’s crowded dining room with a swift and surreptitious blow to the nether regions (a.k.a. a sucker punch to the gut). At the coveted Booth One the young stalwart had found his pretty blond favorite wedged between WTEM-TV’s ‘Frankie Franchise’ and his long-time pal Recorder’s Court Judge William O’Bryan. DeFauw, who has used his fists in more than one barroom encounter over the years, settled the matter quickly while his younger opponent was looking the other way. When asked by Your Intrepid Reporter if that was his usual stratagem in physical encounters, the local Nielsen King would say only, ‘Get away from me, you little (bleep).’”
    The boy dropped the paper and stared at his mother.
    Marci with a frown: “You had to spoil a perfectly lovely Sunday morning.”
    “ Mom, you’d have seen it. One of your friends would have told you about it.”
    “ No, I’ve got them trained not to.”
    “ Why put up with his shit, Mom? Why not get a divorce? Or maybe an annulment. Ted’s mother got an annulment. She said her husband never had any intention of keeping his vows, and the Pope granted an annulment.”
    “ Sweetheart, I don’t care about an annulment. One marriage has been more than enough.”

Chapter 11
    In a shiny black jogging suit Frank walked into the kitchen. “Well, what’s this? Scheming a palace coup, are we?”
    “ Ah, the Sun King,” said Bobby. “Wait’ll you see Wil Barnes this morning.”
    Frank got himself coffee. “I saw it in last night’s edition. As usual, the little prick got almost everything wrong.”
    “ Like what?” The boy stared boldly at him.
    Sitting at the table Frank faced his son. “Like she wasn’t a blond. She was a brunette. And I didn’t sucker punch the kid. I was just too fast for him.”
    Bobby was one large smirk.
    “ And Barnes never asked me if that was my usual M.O. He made that stuff up.”
    “ Dad, you’re so full of shit.”
    Marci finally looked up from the paper. “Bobby!”
    Frank shook his head. “No, he’s right. I am full of shit sometimes. Besides, it’s good to see this boy show a little spunk for once. How about some golf this afternoon, kid? I’m playing with the Doctors Ross and Katz, and I could use a partner.”
    Bobby, on his feet: “No, thanks, I’m busy.”
    Annoyed, especially after handing the boy that “bullshit” business, Frank asked, “Busy doing what?”
    “ Homework.”
    “ Homework! Do your damn homework instead of sitting up there all day in your room, jackin’ off on