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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.
This curmudgeon.
The water runs over my finger, the cool liquid mixes with my blood.
I watch my future run down the drain.
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