"Gladys, are you home? I got your message..." Reilly peered in the window of the side door, but couldn't see any sign of activity from inside, though his wife's Grand Cherokee was still in the garage. He reached for his keychain out of habit, and had sorted through half a dozen keys before he mentally kicked himself. "Ass. It's not your house anymore, remember? You just pay the fucking mortgage." He shook his head at his...

I kicked the sheets into a tangle and stumbled, bleary-eyed, across our tiny efficiency to turn off the excited morning voices of Karlson & McKenzie cackling from the clock radio.  I reminded myself yet again that I needed to get an alarm that didn’t automatically reset every day, annoyed at the 8AM wakeup for a day when my first class wasn’t until 1.  Collapsing back onto the foot of the bed crosswise, I yawned and reach...