Isaiah
“Dexter took some photos,” Charlie said proudly, grinning at his fifteen year old grandson who was running around the room with a camera.
“Good,” was all I could bite out, and Charlie gave me a dirty look.
“That's all you can say?”
I chuckled, shaking my head at the old man. “What else do you want me to say, Charlie?”
“You know, I'm old enough to give birth to you, you piece of shit.” He grunted. “You should call me, Uncle,”
I could not count how many times we've had this argument. Charlie was one of the good ones, though. He was foul tempered, but his heart was in the right place, unlike that foolish betrayer who I had once called my best friend. People like Charlie were easy to read and hardly held grudges. Just like my Zella.
Sweet, stubborn Zella. My d**k lurched e
