Chapter 14

“You think I’m joking?” the guy asks.

the gun goes off in his hand, oh so motherfucking loud.

Nowthose hands disappear from my body, and the guy holding me down lets go with a strangled scream. “My face!”

I wonder just how good a shot this other punk is if he got him in the face and he can still talk about it. I glance up and see the side of his cheek is open, bloody and raw, and he’s standing so close to the wall I’m thinking the kid hit the bricks and the shrapnel’s what’s torn him up. “Jesus, Rob my face, my face!”