“When I said you needed my permission.” Bohnes cracks those startingly blue eyes to stare at me. He’s a legend. I wonder if he knows that? I wonder if he knows that, in the not-so-distant future, five boys will form a gang called Havoc. That they’ll wear painted skeleton faces on Halloween, paying homage to Bohnes without ever mentioning his name. Because, in Prescott, even years later, people will know who Bohnes is. They’ll know Widow. They’ll certainly know Ash Kelly and Alexei Grove. But they won’t talk about any of it. Never, ever.
