Chapter 47
Kurt burrowed his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans below the wine-red shirt he’d flung over his body five minutes before sprinting out of his house. His eyes combed over the man standing in front of him. Francis Yusuf. Stitches decked his head and forehead and specks of blood spotted his creased shirt.
The three men formed a knot at the back of one wall of the station, away from the human traffic into, out and in front of the building. Francis was sucking hungrily on a cigarette, avoiding Kurt’s gaze. By Francis’s side, Leke had his arms wound in front of his chest.
Kurt battled to grasp what Francis had just told him. “I need to understand this... she’s your girlfriend?”
Francis’s foot kicked at a stone in the earth. “She is. I mean, she was... we just started our r
