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Thank God, in a way, that lance at fucking Bellamy Otherwise, I would haveup onme for what I’d done to him
At Bellainsensation in hs
“Ugh,” I cried, sla into a gas station to fill up a couple hours into my escape plan
I hadn’t exactly had any destination inthe hell out of Jersey until things blew over a bit But, soht back into my past
And it was different, yet almost painfully the same at once
Baltis about how the systeht little fish for poverty-induced crih pockets to skate aithout a single mark on their record
Baltimore here I’d learned never to leave the house without a knife
It was the place that had taken es, points sharp enough that no one could get close enough without co up bloodied
I swear sohtened my senses So much so that I couldnear the door of the convenience store several yards away Sofor a hit a second before one of the guys broke away froroup to “shake hands” with hiht scent of ammonia and acetone that I’d always associated with h
“Hoot back into as station
But not to head back onto the highway
No
To find a hotel that wouldn’t givebites