Now, they’re unconscious, or possibly dead, I can’t be sure. Which means the scariest thing in this alley is the one still standing.
And he’s looking right at me.
“You can sit there,” B.E.B. says, “or you can come with me.”
I look at his outstretched hand. The split knuckles. The blood drying between his fingers.
I have no idea what happens if I take it.
I’m scared to learn what happens if I don’t.
I mean, c’mon now. It’s too much.
I’m very grateful to the Blue-Eyed Bastard for saving me. But frankly, it’s a little rude of him to make me go through so many emotions at once. A girl has limits, you know? Emotional circuits have a maximum capacity, and mine are without a doubt overloaded. Any second now, I’m going to implode into a puddle of drooling, stuttering goo, and the B.E.B. wil
