Between the Right and the Left

So many of you asked me to continue where I left off a couple of weeks ago with Lover’s Lane that I felt obliged.

The deal would be going down in fifteen minutes. If Drew wasn’t there before the snitch, his cover would be blown. Half way between a car rocking with noisy lovers and a car with a hand on the glass, a quiet moan that could be love or death, he stopped. The Lover’s Lane stalker? Or the throws of passion? He reached for the handle.

I know, I know. Bad place to stop. Well, I tried.

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The story continues here.