SLEEPING IN THAT TINY little room was incredibly easy despite the loud music, sounds of laughter, and gruff voices that trailed up the stairs all night long. There was something about it that, after the events that very same night, was incredibly comforting. That, and I felt ten times more at ease knowing there was a gun in the drawer next to me just in case things went bad like they had in my home.
After our little moment together, I told Sinclair what I had planned to tell him before The Sandman had stormed into my house. How Lucky wanted to use me as some kind of assassin to kill him and how Lucky had wanted to make me one of his personal w****s—Sinclair's eyes had narrowed intensely at that—and about how The Sandman had warned me that, should I refuse, he was going to kill me. Sinclai
