Zero at the Bone (Zero at the Bone, #1)

by Jane Seville

“He called me a twink,” Jack muttered, as they lurked near the door, waiting for Dappa. “Shut up.” “Is that good or bad? What’s it mean?” “Means a man who knows when ta fuckin’ shut up, so clearly he was mistaken. Now shut up.”

“Hey, what’s that thing where you hold the gun sideways?” he said, grinning. D snorted. “That’s called being a punk-ass punk,” he said. “Might look good in rap videos. You see anybody holdin’ a gun like that ya know they’re cake, ’cause they’re more interested in what the gun looks like in their hand than what it can do, and they’re probly dumber’n a fuckin’ bag a hammers too.”

“You still killed people, though.” D nodded. “Ones I thought had it comin’.” “And that’s your call to make?” Shut up, Jack. This is not the time for this discussion. Too late. His head swiveled back toward Jack. “Who else? The fuckin’ justice system? You gotta be kiddin’ me. The same justice system where a small-time dope dealer gets ten years while a child killer gets three? Them’re some fucked-up priorities. I ain’t got that problem.”