Blood Relations by Michelle McGriff Read Free Book Online

first he thought it might be a dream, but not since getting that call from the athletic department of University of Oregon. “Inviting me to take a look at their team! Me!” he told his reflection. “How many people get invited personally to a school to look it over—specifically their athletic department—without that being an unsaid promise of making the team? How many?” He smiled broadly and again wondered if he maybe looked like his father. It wasn’t as if he knew who his father was. His mother had apparently been a wildcat back in the day—sleeping with men she didn’t know. Go figure. Considering how uptight she was now— can’t imagine it. But, she was old now, Chance was old now—Juanita was old now too, despite how she acted. They were all old and fulla farts. And it was time for him to blow this stank joint.
    Just then there was a banging on the bathroom door. “God, Reg! I gotta pee fa real!” Rainey bellowed. He yanked open the door. His half sister was fourteen. She normally had a quiet nature—except when her bladder was full.
    She looked and acted nothing like Junior, nothing like him. Funny, now that he thought about it, as strange as it seemed, he and Junior looked and acted more alike than Rainey did to either of them. It was almost as if she was the stepchild.
    â€œIf you were a boy you coulda just peed outside,” Reggie teased, pushing her forehead tauntingly before brushing past her. She swung at him and missed before slamming into the bathroom.
    â€œGross!” she screamed from inside.

Chapter 8
    Ovan left the station house. He’d made his point—and new enemies. That was fine. He’d rather work with people who didn’t like him but respected him and what he was doing, than those who just carried on brainlessly following stupid rules they didn’t understand. Lawrence wasn’t a brainless follower—Ovan could tell. Behind that staunch demeanor was a cop who wanted justice. “And that’s just the kind of guy I need on my side,” he said aloud before patting his stomach, realizing his hunger. But he’d had a plenty of exercise today: a little flirting with a female precinct captain, a little dancing with the enemy (he had to view Lawrence that way until something dictated otherwise), and a full day of hunting the devil—Allen Roman. Tomorrow he’d head down another road. He needed something substantial to prove that Allen Roman was truly here in the city, and some stronger leads on him. He’d have to be living somewhere. Surely Roman would not be able to resist a scholarly environment too long. Perverted though it may seem, he could easily be drawn back to his own stomping ground: Moorman. Back to his old obsessions, like Rashawn Ams. The case made it clear Roman had a thing for her—in a big way. Roman never went anywhere without a purpose, and there was a reason he was here in California. “It won’t hurt to see if Rashawn Ams has anything to do with his trip here. Craven all but admitted that he was in need of some big time surgical procedure—Maravel should have his medical records by now. After dinner I’ll head over there. We’ll see what’s wrong with him ... besides insanity.” Ovan mumbled.
    Stepping off the curb, Ovan noticed a dark sedan parked on the opposite side of the small park. He didn’t know why the car drew his attention. It made his skin crawl and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Dusk was falling and making it harder to see. He stood staring for a moment at the parked car in hopes of focusing on and making out the driver—no luck.
    Crossing the street, he took his car keys from his pocket and headed for his car, thinking he’d just drive past the car and get the license number, or perhaps a better look through the eyes of a computer run on the plate. As he started his car, turned on the radio, fooled with the