Nixx
By ten o’clock that night, I was parked three houses down from Havoc’s place wondering when exactly I had lost my damn mind.
The answer was probably somewhere between the tattoo festival and the dandelion.
Maybe before that.
Either way, here I was.
The neighborhood sat quiet beneath the glow of scattered porch lights and television screens. Most of the houses looked the same. Small yards. Faded siding. Vehicles parked in driveways. The kind of place nobody looked at twice.
The kind of place where ugly things could happen behind closed doors for years without anybody asking questions.
I sat astride the bike with the engine off and my helmet resting beside me on the seat. From where I was positioned, I had a partial view through the second-story bedroom window.
Not perfect.
Goo
