“Well, shit,” I say before turning back to talk to the intruder. To my new neighbor. But he’s gone, the door closed behind him. The only proof that he was here is the metal bat still lying on the ground, abandoned by its owner. Coleman Ink. That’s the name of the tattoo shop next door, I remember as my brain kicks in. And Ben Coleman is the owner. And I just made the world’s worst first impression on my new neighbor.
