"Thanks for coming on such short notice." Sascha waved the nicety away. "Tell me who I'm looking at." The live security feed showed a lanky young man in the next room—mid-twenties—with disheveled black hair that pointed in every direction in a fashionable imitation of bed-head. His lumpy face was the color of a ripe plum.… Continue reading Self-preservation at the Chop Shop
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