#Chapter68
Her Voice
CLYVE
This woman is something.
ONE MOMENT she was fiery, then became friendly all of a sudden. It was not that I was complaining, but she was like having a switch—transforming into a beast when the clock ticked midnight—a stunning beast though.
/"What?/" She snapped her head at me, scowling.
I didn't say it out loud, did I? /"What?/"
/"You chuckled./"
/"Oh. I was just thinking about the bloke back at the diner./" I was not thinking about that dickwad at all.
That skinhead bloke kept glaring at me throughout our time at the Deer’s Diner. He was huge, around two hundred and sixty pounds of muscles in his plaid shirt. The moment I saw him, I knew his middle name was trouble or it suited him better if it was a wanker.
