Chapter 61 Dicing With Death

• Jett hauled the half-conscious Bryson out of the house to somewhere not too far away, dragging his prone body along by one foot until they reached the main road.
• Terror flared up in Bryson's eyes as he was pulled along like the corpse of a dead dog, and he shrieked for mercy with every step. His hands were bloody from clawing at everything he saw along the way, trying to delay the inevitable. "Jett! You can't just kill me! Honestly, it wasn't me! I swear!" He grabbed hold of the guardrail beside the road and refused to let go.
• As far as he was concerned, any physical suffering he might have to endure was far preferable to death. He racked his brains, trying desperately to figure out what Jett might do to him. He even thought about throwing himself into the road so he could die from being run over by passing cars.