บท 37: Chapter 37

“The last guy killed himself.” Blaze put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorframe. Arik froze in the act of refolding socks, though he didn’t say anything.

“I was in London, and my target, as I call them, was this kid in the fashion industry. Big name, at least in the UK.” As Blaze spoke, Arik turned around, sat on the bench next to his suitcase, and toyed with a zipper, listening. “Despite having what had to be millions, the kid lived in a shitty room over a wine and spirits. He ate out of tins. He shot up heroin between his toes. He liked to scream himself to sleep.” Blaze swallowed, pushing away that particular memory. Kip’s nightmares had put even Blaze’s to shame.

“God,” Arik whispered.