“His lips twitched as if he needed a hit of something, whether caffeine or coke or nicotine, Frankie couldn’t tell. So cool when they were in the chapel, Craig Bennett’s friend now stalked around like an innocent man on death row. Or a guilty man pretending to be innocent.“Want to go outside for a smoke?” Frankie offered. “I’ll stick around, bring you news.”Evan’s eyes transmitted pure disgust, with a heavy dose of mistrust thrown in. Not that Frankie wasn’t used to the look, especially from ric...h maricóns who thought their shit didn’t stink, but he’d never get used to having to control his reaction to them. Took a lot of effort to remind himself that one punch in the wrong man’s face, and he’d end up back in the joint. And that wasn’t going to happen.“No. Thank you.”Manners over emotion. Must be a lesson taught in the prep schools in this part of the country, judging by how both Evan Cole and Ian Blake seemed to have mastered the skill.Frankie wandered nearer the doors to surgery, where Max stood, arms crossed, expression stoic.“Any word?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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