The interior of the house was no better than the exterior.
Dingy and dim with a pervasive musty smell, it was uncomfortable at best.
Zavier also pulled out his gun and held it in his other hand that wasn't wrapped around Shaira’s waist.
"Sit here." The thug said gruffly, indicating a couple of moth eaten couches.
He settled on a depressed couch that had his imprint on it which went to show that he spent a lot of time in it, most likely staring at the small, bulky TV position on a rickety table just beside them.
Zavier was worried for Shaira but she didn't bat an eyelid at the entire place, plopping her ass down on the couch before either him or Nik could even work up the courage to.
"Call me Tim." The burly thug muttered, scratching his greying beard one more time. "Can I get you so
