It took five hours for someone to drag Marcellus into Jimmy's pub. He was put in Carter's office and pushed in a chair, by a large guard who, in a thick Irish accent, "Wait here." Marcellus sat there quivering, he had been on the streets for almost a year. It showed in his scrawny frame, his worn face, cracked lips, and gaunt eyes.
He was ghastly and didn't seem to be the least bit healthy. Carter walked into the room and behind him trailed a bartender. She sat down two plates of hot food, a cold beer, and water. When she left, Carter closed the door and sat behind his desk calmly. "Eat." Marcellus did as told not protesting. As he ate, he snuck glances at Carter, he was different. More confident, more dangerous, his aura screamed "f**k with me and I kill you" now.
When Marcellus was fu
