Clayton stared at the house in disbelief, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He blinked repeatedly to clear his vision, but he still saw the same things: Beth\'s car in the driveway, the couple kissing on the couch, Thigh-bolt leading her to the bedroom. Beth and Thigh-bolt together. With every passing minute, he felt stronger waves of anger cresting and crashing inside him. His perfect plans, all of them, up in smoke. And Thigh-bolt would forever have him over a barrel. He pressed his lips together in a tight line. He was tempted to storm in on them, but then there was the damn dog. Again. It had been hard enough already, following them through his binoculars from his car without............