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24

Brian Schultz

“Fuck!”

The bastard in the car in front of me slowed again for the hundredth time. Ugh! The traffic wasn’t congested, but the asshole drove like the road belonged to him.

Orlando’s words kept echoing in my mind. The nerve of that bastard. The fucker packed a powerhouse punch that knocked the breath out of me, literally. I should’ve expected this.

My grip on the wheel tightened as I honked at the slow driver. The action was something I considered as outrageous before today. What did he say about the tattoo? Alana’s flawless skin was free of artificial ink.

My mind reeled thinking of the time Arianna told me about the party. I vaguely remembered her telling me that she got a tattoo. I felt hotter despite the air conditioner running at sixty degrees. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I took the turn toward our street.

The car screeched when I slammed the brakes, and I got out, b

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