No One Rides For Free

by Judith Sonnet

Jackson had been the only man for her, in the romantic sense. His tragic death had not only ended his life, but also her concept of love.

WARNING: The following pages of No One Rides for Free are so graphic, disturbing, and depraved… we are legally obliged to give you time to put it down and decide whether or not you want to continue reading. If you read on then you are consenting to witness the horrors ahead… which are, at times, unimaginable. You are also expected to read on at your own risk, knowing full and well that the producers of this book are not responsible for any side effects that you may—or may not—suffer. If you are at all squeamish, sensitive, or easily offended, we recommend you find a happier story. If you do continue reading and find yourself growing weak with shock, to stave off sickness, fainting, and even death… repeat to yourself: It’s only a book… It’s only a book… It’s only a book...

The bond between a mother and a child is strong, and once severed, it leaves a hole in the very center of the survivors being.

She grabbed the hilt of the knife and pressed it in deeper. The Man stood still, holding his breath, and glancing down at the protrusion. “No one rides for free.” Jodi said as she pulled the knife out.