He felt sorry for Mika while he admired him on some level. He had sense enough to realize keeping everything inside wasn’t the best idea.
If there was some way I could help him, I would. Of course first I’d have to know where he lives. There’s dozens of motels in the city. Hell, hundreds of them, I bet. That’s presuming he’s still there. If he was lucky, he found an apartment, meaning if he doesn’t come by again, then Wednesday might have been the last time I’ll ever see him.
Buck wasn’t sure he liked that idea. Yes, he barely knew Mika, but he liked the kid. Well, not a kid. He’s only five years younger than me.
He found he was checking out the people coming and going on the street, more so than he usually did, hoping one of them might be Mika. None of them were, which disappointed him. He could at least stop by to tell me if he did find a place to live. Yeah, right. I’m the guy who listened to him vent, that’s it, and it was at my suggestion. He doesn’t owe me for that.