Chapter 4

1970 Words

Asher "The f**k ?" I jolted awake at a sharp elbow slamming into my ribs. It dug through my black hoodie and my leather jacket, so it had to be that long-limbed tosser, Alfred. I sat up, growling. The dead hum of industrial engines buzzed in my ears. You'd think I would've gotten used to it by now. Spoiler alert: I hadn't. Alfred pouted like a groupie and slapped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Oh, Ash, why don't you love me?" "Because you have a c**k, no t**s, fart like you've consumed every rotten egg in America, and think Russell Brand is funny. The latter, by the way, is borderline criminal." Alfred laughed and threw something at me-a blue guitar pick. I picked it up from my crotch and slid it in my back pocket. "What do you want?" "We're almost at the airport." "I th

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