Dangerous
“Seriously, Book, this place is almost as old as you. Why don’t you use some of that money you used to steal and buy a nice place? Maybe one without a fucking roach infestation.”
The critter unleashed a fresh memory, Zoe’s sleepy voice confessing her lie of his occupation. His stomach flipped, his throat thankful he had nothing left in his stomach to expel.
Booker’s voice snapped his from his thoughts. “Listen here, kid. Money’s meant to be spent on fine women, fine whiskey and some good ol’ fashioned drugs. Why would I spent good money on a nice place? This works just fine.” Kicking the front door shut, Booker dawdled to the sofa, falling into it. It creaked almost as loudly as he did.
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