Chapter 8

Dargan’s POV

“This is…,” Ashton mumbled looking around with a look of disgust on his face. “Depressing.”

Well, seeing as he came from a pack that had enough money to wipe their asses with it, I understood that he found the “cabin in the woods”-look sort of depressing. The packhouse was barely a one-and-a-half-story building, with some desks scattered across the main floor and a closed-off office in the back. The bathroom was cramped next to what looked like some kind of enforced holding cells and to top it all off:

No AC!

Already it was better than most dumps I’d been living at. Because seriously, have you heard the noise a broken AC makes? Let me tell you, it’s enough to make people consider murdering someone.

Or suicide!

Whichever gets you out of there the fastest…

“What? You expected hell to be an amusement park, Ashton?” I smirked as I stood beside him and for now, just threw my bags on the ground.

“My name is---” he grumbled but cut himself off mid-sentence and hopelessly shook h