MY VIRGINITY SOLD TO THE LORD OF THE MAFIA
The sign flashed dimly, Route 9.
It was perfect.
Far enough to disappear, loud enough to blend in.
I went down, my legs still heavy, the blood beating in my temples.
The cold hit me immediately, but I didn't care.
I breathed freedom, even if it tasted like iron and fear.
Inside, the air was hot, saturated with alcohol and tobacco. Country music was blaring on the radio. A few truckers were talking loudly in the background, their voices drowned out by the noise of glasses.
And there, sitting in a corner, hood pulled down, Luca.
Bab Populer