“I was drunk, Hughie,” he groaned, flinching. “I messed up. I’m holding my hands up to it.” “And what’s your excuse every other time you’ve put your dick in her?” I demanded, seething. “Well? Have you been drunk for the past forty-eight days, too? Or are you going to use the jealousy card again? Or were you just fucking my girl because she’s vulnerable, and you’re a piece of shit!”
