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Little Chrissy Hatchett
Marcus POV “Hey, Ron, isn’t that little Chrissy Hatchett?” One of the men elbowed his companion next to him, jerking his head toward Christian. The other man squinted his eyes while tilting his head to the side before his face split into a huge grin. “Little Chrissy Hatchett? How is dear old daddy?” They all chuckled. “Well, he’s been six feet under for the last nine, almost ten years, so he’s great.” Christian’s face held a vicious smirk, showing the hate the son held for his father. “Remember when old man Blackwell let us feed off of little Chrissy here as a reward for our good work?” The men all started laughing. “The only thing he asked was for us not to kill him. He was such a scared little pup. Used to piss all over himself. I wonder if he still would if we feed off of him now.”
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