The impact of the rock hurt. The impact of the rock just hurt, and nothing more. The fact that it looked like a bullet while it was screaming at my stomach but felt more like a sharp rock being thrown from a long distance, barely reaching its target, as it should have made me intensely angry. Totally enraged would be a more suitable description of it, because like it was purely instinctive, I started running towards Ricky like I was shot from a gun myself. As I look back on it all I can remember is that I was going to kill him. I think about it, and I do not even know how I was going to do it, I was just going to kill him, and it was all I could think of. The look of horror on his face as I was running down the street would have told me that he knew I was going to kill him, and he could not stop me from doing it. The indignation that he “thought” he was going to kill me or disable me with that rock must have been the factor that was flooding my brain. The fact that he could not do it, ...
The place where Jeremy Crow places his stuff.