100 words for the 100 Challenge.
Hold your breath. Count to ten. Would that work? Quell the anger rearing in his gut? Stop the sting behind his red-ringed eyes?
He hadn't meant to cry. He was a grown man. He didn't do shit like that. But his emotions had betrayed him and now he needed a damn tissue. Actually, no. He didn't need a tissue, he needed a baseball bat and five minutes with Chase Winters and his adulterous dick.
A smile crept across his lips as he bent down and reached beneath his bed, circling his hand around the solid wooden bat.
Just five minutes.
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