By me, I think. If it was prescribed, then it was the wrong medication. If the head of the group could withstand the torture, then he'd torment weaker members. Wide shoulders, slender waist and hips, a swimmer's body, though that wasn't his sport.
The bastard, I said. He's just not awake yet. He took the silence for a yes, and slid to the floorboard. I'd thought this crisis with Louie might help Ronnie and me rebuild our friendship, but it wasn't working out that way.
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