“He was not only taller, but beefier, and an angry sneer perpetually covered his brooding, thug-like countenance. The three of us stood at the stern of Richard’s boat, which seemed to have grown as well. The open deck was nearly the size of a tennis court. “You still haven’t recognized me,” I accused. It had taken every ounce of courage I possessed to challenge him. Da-Marr’s gaze shifted from my face to the deck, his shoulders hunching like a prize bull getting ready to charge. I forced myself to continue. “I used to have a brown leather bomber jacket. Man, I loved that coat. I had it almost twenty years. They cut it off me in the Emergency Room.” Da-Marr’s eyes remained locked on the deck. “Did Lester’s balls ever recover?” I asked. No reaction. I’d kicked his cohort hard where it counted, but that had only increased Da-Marr’s killing rage. “Are you still friends with Reggie?” That got Da-Marr’s attention, and he looked up sharply. He’d wielded that vintage baseball bat, using it to ...smash my skull.MoreLessShow More Show Less
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