“It was a duplex and Mike lived on the right side, I knew from Ryan. He’d told me about going to visit him on occasion, just to check in on his old high school buddy. Knowing this was the place Ryan had met the whore made it all the more difficult to approach. But I knocked on the glass front door—the doorbell was broken—anyway. A moment later, the front door opened, and Mike stuck his head out, his eyes nearly closed to the midday sun. He looked like he’d just woken up, even though it was g...oing on noon. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only cut-off jean shorts, so I could see his scrawny chest, with ribs that reminded me of an old washboard my granny used to have in her basement. He had several faded tattoos on his arms and chest, including one of the Tasmanian Devil on his right pec. His face was covered in piercings—his ears, his nose, and even his cheek—and his sandy blond hair looked like it hadn’t seen a brush in months. “Can I help you?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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