"You're a carbon copy of your pop, and I'm the fucker he hated to love. Or like, is more accurate. I'm not modest, and I'll freely admit I miss the good life. Once we're outta here, I'm done with this frugal bullshit we've got going on now." He snorted and opened his soda. "We haven't had a choice, dick." "You do now." I waved my fork at him. "If we had it my way, we'd spend the rest of our time here in a hotel suite or a nice condo downtown. For fuck's sake, my toilet upstairs leaks, there's a draft in the living room, and I live next to a seventy-five-year-old pot dealer."
