Chapter 74 Chopped Meat
- Paetyn
- The basement is quieter now that the jackass cop has gone back upstairs. My wrists ache where the handcuffs bite. Across the room, my father sits cuffed to a radiator, his face bruised, blood dried at the edges of his temple.
- I look at him, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I say. “I didn’t know who else to call.”