He asked her if she'd like to go up there Friday night and come back on Sunday. Sandy said she'd have to check with her mom, but that she thought it would be OK. She promised to let him know for sure by Wednesday. Sandy coyly asked Sonny what they could do together up in the mountains since it was too early for skiing season. He told her that he'd enjoy making a few runs up and down some of her slopes, and then told her that they had a jacuzzi out on the patio that had a killer view and that there were literally hundreds of great hiking trails up in that area. He promised that he'd show her a good time."Well, do you promise that it will be as good a time as we had on Catalina?" Sandy was pulling on her nipples, enjoying the tiny tremors they sent through her body."Oh yeah, better probably. This time I won't be so nervous around you. We can take our time and just enjoy being alone together." Sonny had his eyes closed, remembering the way Sandy looked as she lay underneath him that. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t think anything. Just, one second, he was standing in the doorway, and, the next, he was inside the room, had Andreas by the throat and lifted him—literally lifted him—off the ground, slammed him against the side of the heavy oak armoire across from the bed. The TV on top of the armoire tilted drunkenly and crashed to the floor. Somewhere, beneath the rage, he heard Anna scream, but in the next moment, Andreas swung, wildly, his fist connecting. Jason grunted, tasted blood in his mouth, but only hauled his arm back to slam a fist into Andreas’s stomach. The fucker screamed in pain, would’ve doubled over if Jason hadn’t had such a firm grip on his throat. ‘You piece of shit!’ He slammed his fist into Andreas’s face. Once, twice, three times. Over and over, until he lost count, until the skin over his knuckles split open. ‘Jason! Stop!’ There were Anna’s hands, small and pale, wrapped around his wrist, trying to pull him away, but the only thing Jason.
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