Drew
“You look like hell." Dalton pushes at my elbow as he takes a seat beside me on the picnic tables behind Walker's Wheels.
May has come in, warm and muggy, reminding me we're close to a year. Almost a year since we've been living in fear. I take a drag off my cigarette, blowing smoke away from his face before turning back. “Thanks for your concern, honey. Maybe I'll look into Botox for these crow's feet." I flash a middle finger at him.
He glares. Even though he's wearing sunglasses, I know he glares. That's what being friends with someone for more years than you can remember does. “Fuckin' smartass," he mumbles. “Not what I meant, you son of a b***h, and you know it. You look like you're not sleeping again."
Sighing, I put my cigarette up to my lips, taking another drag. This one
