He was tired of Justice renting space in his life. Why was he so damn afraid to off him? He was bent over the keyboard, and perspired without direction. It was not writer’s block, either. He was afraid that he would do something very dangerous in the manuscript. Picking up the lap top and smashing it against the wall seemed the perfect anecdote to unlock his mind. There was no one to stop such a shenanigan. Similarly, there was no one to stop him from writing what he wanted. Who the fuck is Justice Lorenzo? Surprisingly, he pulled his eyes from the computer monitor. He paused to explore a portrait of Lundin hanging in his home office. She was at the back of a Victoria Secret runway show. He wondered what she would say if he told her the truth about Justice. William vowed to Jewel to have a final draft submitted to her in two weeks. He had no idea how to rid himself of Justice; in a real world per se. In the story he could think of a million ways to raise an axe to the pain in the ass.
