CJ must not feel it. He doesn’t budge. “I want you gone,” he snarls. “Pack up your shit and get the fuck out of my house, brother, and I want it happening tonight.” “What?” My eyes jump between his. “Are you serious?” “Do I look serious?” “Where am I supposed to go?” I ask. “Not my problem.” He dips closer. “Do you hear that, Jake? You are no longer my problem. Do you get what I’m saying to you?”
:(
