“He barreled in here shouting and screaming and obviously fucking drunk off his ass,” Ransom whispers, his voice dark as shadows within shadows, like what happens when night turns to something darker. When he's like this, it's not that hard to imagine that he killed somebody. “But if he doesn't back up and shut the hell up here soon, I'm going to get angry.” Ransom pauses to light a cigarette, the flicker of the lighter brightening up the inside of his hood for a moment. “You are properly fucking mental, you are,” Pax slurs, still wearing his suit, covered in sweat and swaying like crazy. He
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