The Devil's Collector Read Online Free Page B

his legs, fondled his thick cock until it was standing long and straight, and then took it into her expert mouth.
    Damon thought this was the only way to wake up.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    â€œCole Damon,” Sonnet told Clint as he handed a cup of coffee across the campfire.
    He poured himself a cup and hunkered down so that they were on the same level.
    â€œDamon,” Clint said. “I never heard of him.”
    â€œWhat about Deline, Missouri?”
    Clint shook his head.
    â€œNever heard if that either.”
    Sonnet nodded and sipped his coffee.
    â€œDo you mind if I ask you a few questions?” Clint asked.
    â€œSure, go ahead.”
    â€œWhere have you been getting your information?”
    Sonnet drank his coffee.
    â€œI mean, I know through telegrams,” Clint said, “but telegrams from where? And who?”
    â€œI can’t say.”
    â€œWon’t, or can’t?”
    â€œNo,” Sonnet said, “I’d tell you if I could. I really can’t, because I don’t know who the telegrams come from.”
    â€œNow, wait,” Clint said. “You’re killing men based on information you’re receiving from . . . you don’t know who?”
    â€œBut he seems to know who they are, and where they are.”
    â€œBut what if he’s wrong?”
    â€œHe hasn’t been,” Sonnet said. “So far neither of them denied killing my brother.”
    â€œIf they even remembered,” Clint said.
    â€œThey remembered,” Sonnet said. “I wouldn’t pull the trigger if I didn’t think they remembered.”
    â€œI’d like to believe that.”
    â€œClint,” Sonnet said, “I’m not just killing to kill. There’s a reason.”
    â€œThere seems to be a reason for somebody,” Clint agreed.
    â€œI think we should get mounted up,” Sonnet said. “We can make Deline today.”
    â€œSure,” Clint said, “your call, Jack.”
    â€œI’ll douse the fire,” Sonnet said, standing up and dumping the remnants of his coffee into the already dying flames.
    â€œAnd I’ll saddle the horses,” Clint said.
    He walked over to where the horses were picketed, hoping that maybe he had given the younger man something to think about.

TEN
    They rode into Deline later that night.
    At the livery Clint said, “This time I want a steak, some pie and coffee, a beer, and then a room.”
    â€œYou askin’ or tellin’?” Sonnet asked.
    â€œI’m asking,” Clint said. “This is all your call, Jack.”
    â€œWell, it sounds good to me,” Sonnet said. “Let’s do it.”
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    Clint was starting to get bored with it.
    If all went according to plan, they would get to a town, take care of the horses, get a beer, maybe a meal, then Sonnet would find his target and kill him. Then move on to the next town.
    Clint was starting to think a lot about who Sonnet was getting his information from. Could there be somebody out there with a kill list? Somebody who was using Sonnet to get the list cleared? And what if it had nothing to do with who killed his brother? How would the kid feel then?
    Well, maybe he wasn’t bored. Maybe he was worried about what all this killing, all this vengeance, would do to Jack Sonnet. Could be he thought he owed it to the boy’s father and grandpa to save the boy from this life.
    â€œWhy are you so quiet?” Sonnet asked, pushing his plate away.
    â€œJust thinking.”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œAbout you,” Clint said.
    â€œDon’t tell me you’re gonna start tryin’ to talk me out of this now.”
    â€œMaybe,” Clint said. “How many more you got, Jack?”
    â€œThree.”
    â€œYou know their names?”
    â€œNo,” Sonnet said, “just this next one, Cole Damon.”
    â€œWhat do you say we ask a few more questions this