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it like that, Everett. You have to choose: this thing you do, or your family.”
    The big block sprint cars on the other side of the fence howled a bone deep subsonic that Kerri knew from experience would make her lungs vibrate like twin bass speakers once she was in there watching the race. But their guttural snarls were semi muted as her man’s mind spun, like the slick tires of those unseen sprints.
    She took Everett’s hand and placed the palm against her lower abdomen, covered her hand with his. He instantly relaxed as he felt Raymond’s pulse.
    “It’s all right ,” he said. “It’s going to be all right. I’ll quit, I swear. I’ll get out as soon as I can.”
    Despite her lingering anger and terror at this entire surreal evening , she’d clung to his words as a shipwrecked sailor clutches at flotsam. But Everett still focused on what was going on around them in the parking lot, giving her only part of his attention. Even with Raymond burgeoning in her womb, Everett was still turned half away, focusing on what might creep up on them.
    Kerri considered Everett’s eternal vigilance as the sprint cars continued their snarling race to nowhere on the other side of the fence. He listened to the storm thunder of the sprints as he stood guard.

Chapter 10 : Homecoming Interruptus
    In the here and now , the Christmas decorations were up and Raymond’s presents stacked under the tree. Kerri sidled up to her easel and became one with her pallet, brushes, tubes of paint, and other accouterments of her painting. She’d only been taking a break from imposing her dreams on the world.
    She turned on the Bose stereo and went to work. When they first met, she’d been partial to Mozart’s ‘Eine Kleine Nachtmusik’ and Debussy’s ‘Claire De Lune’ when she painted. Now it was Nine Inch Nails playing while she worked, or Bartok – fitting stuff to inspire the dark paintings she excreted.
    “ Brother Rick and Brother Norm were asking about you,” Kerri said as she picked up her brush and studied this latest piece with a dominating scowl. “They wanted to say ‘hi’ when you got back.” She reached out to make a microscopic change in a detail of the painting.
    Everett ’s attention was arrested as ever by her skill. Things stopped when he watched her work, though he observed from the side or behind so as not to be a distraction.
    As Everett left to respect her privacy, Kerri continued her painting trance. The vision flowed from her and through her brush onto the canvas, as if this creation was the one to make everything whole.
    Kerri’d already had several feature spreads in Juxtapoz Magazine. Other San Francisco gallery owners called her all the time with commissions from wealthy, influential clients. The hoity-toity New York crowd was sniffing around, sensing up-and-comer edgy bargains. Every canvas she painted was sold long before she even finished it.
    Her income was what fed them. She knew that they’d escaped the darkness and were bulletproof forever. They’d never have to touch any of Everett’s stashes of illicit cash buried around the property like a squirrel’s nut hoards, or a hungry child’s desperate caches of food.

Chapter 11 : Cowboy Pimps
    Rick and Norm were Kerri’s big brothers. They were quite a bit older than their little sister, who’d been a late baby. They were the ones who raised Kerri after their parents were killed by a drunk driver when she was four, and she thought the world of them.
    The three siblings were t hird generation pot growers even though Kerri turned her back on the family business long ago. The brothers were good old boys, hunters and outdoorsmen. Self avowed rednecks through and through, though they forgave Everett for being a city slicker on every possible occasion.
    They tried to put Everett through the wringer when Kerri first introduced him to them. The brothers cleaned out the odd bar together from time to time, and they were confused that Everett wasn’t