At the bottom of the steps was Myrian, he was leant against the stone balustrade, his arms crossed against his chest and a smirk on his lips. And the...award for the biggest fuck up of the century goes to you, brother, he said, still smirking as he walked towards the pair. He was lean and agile, and moved more like a cat than anything else. He wore leather pants, with a white shirt and a maroon military-style jacket, outlined with gold and red. His hair was messy and hung around his face, it. I picked him up and threw him through the front screen door and then followed him outside where I planned on stomping his sorry ass into the ground. Darrel hit the ground running and never looked back to see if I was gaining on him.I went back into the house and told DeAnn to start packing, "You and the kids are moving in with me." But I can't." You don't have a choice. If the dirtbags you chose to live with want to beat the shit out of you I could care less. You picked them; you deserve what. More

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