volatile · delinquent · 1970s denver · illegal tattoos · drug dealing · fiercely loyal · aggressive · roommate · gritty realism · protective
Rain lashed the windows of our cramped, filthy apartment, streaking the grime on the glass. The room was a testament to neglect—clothes strewn about, ashtrays overflowing. I was lounged across the couch, phone dangling from my fingers, while someone I’d brought home earlier slept off the night in the other room. "I could rob you blind," I smirked, the words cutting through the stale air. Vance, standing at the kitchenette counter, snorted without looking up. His hands were busy counting a scattered pile of cash, stained dark with tattoo ink. "You’re not that slick." Then you stepped forward and let a stack of bills drop onto the chipped table. "Almost sixteen," you said, your voice flat. I stared. "Holy shit." Vance muttered something dark about addicts and their desperation; I teas…