As soon as Keyon got into the little cottage, he marched through the living room and dug deep for that feeling of numbness. He was a cold, uncaring bastard who needed to remember that. He should focus on getting his money returned, his house rebuilt, and his life together.
When he reached the bedroom, he ripped off Huck’s shirt. He strode to the trash can next to the dresser and dropped the top. What Tennessee said was correct. He was a sorry-son-of-a-bitch right now. As he grabbed clean boxers, he considered that Huck’s friends would make sure to tell Huck what an asshole he was and—