Hearing this statement, Adrian Watkins's face suddenly turned pale, this man did not look like he was joking at all, "Roy Thompson, have you lost your mind? Murder is a crime!"
"A crime? And rape isn't a crime?"
Still daring to talk about the law at this point?
Where did he get that confidence from? Roy Thompson subconsciously stepped toward the man's still semi-hard manhood, only to stop mid-step upon remembering something. Then he slowly moved away, a crafty smile creeping over his lips, "Since you're so brave and it won't go soft once it's hard, it seems somewhat dishonorable not to help you out!"
Indeed, those who dared to touch him getting crippled or ruined was too light a punishment.
So, Roy Thompson moved his foot away from the man's ankle, picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number, "Uncle Sandy, you know those things on the black market that make a man go seven rounds in one night and not go soft? Do you have them?"
