12
I hauled him to his feet and marched him to the door. He came along willingly, had no strength to resist, indeed, no will to resist. He was like a drunk, but lacked the truculence of the average drunk. Anyone who saw us probably thought he was at the end of an eight hour bender, and I was helping him get home, whereas I was doing the very opposite.
We left the building together, Brian the drunk with an unidentifiable male wearing a Hoodie. I held him tenderly, as if to ensure that he wouldn’t lose his footing. We turned the corner safely out of sight of the security cameras (I had checked) and got into my car.
Well, Brian didn’t exactly get in; I pushed him into the passenger side. It wasn’t easy, even though he was quite compliant. He was tall, muscular, and heavy, so I had quite a
