I slice my pinkie while he watches me chop carrots in his kitchen.
He’s told me endless reasons why moving in would benefit Starr and me.
He’s a good man. Wouldn’t hurt us. I know this, I believe him. But my scars run deep.
He says who makes you laugh more than I do? He opens another beer, as I run cold water from the tap.
It’s true, this outlaw.
He’s cuddly, fuzzy, just slightly crazy.
But does he drink too much?
The water runs over my finger, the cool liquid mixes with my blood.
I watch my future run down the drain.