Chapter 8
Hewlett: Two stars. Purple. Happy. Way too happy. Always smiling. Ripped. All muscles, grinning teeth, and a southern drawl topped off with 80s hair he might have carried over from his teenage years, a cut that comes dangerously close to being a mullet. If he’s that old, he’s held up okay.
Not quite two hours later, AC pulled into the same rest stop in Kentucky he’d slept at on the way down, the one where he and John hadn’t f****d. The twelve men got out to stretch again, before settling in for the night. All different ages, sizes, and ethnicities, they were also individuals when it came to temperature. AC, in just his shirt sleeves, walked Spud around the gravel and dirt. Like Elsa, the cold never bothered either one of them. Not that it was all that cold, mid-forties, accordi
