Pale Carnations -ch. 4 Update 4-: -mutt Jeff- ...

End of Scene.

The air in the back room of The Carnation tasted of old cedar, whiskey sweat, and the faint, coppery tang of last month’s takedown. I found Jeff there, not in the kennels where the new stock was kept, but hunched over a scarred card table, the brim of his flat cap casting a shadow over eyes that had seen too many losing hands. Pale Carnations -Ch. 4 Update 4- -Mutt Jeff- ...

He tilted his head, and a grin cracked his face like dry earth. “You here to threaten me, or to ask me how I train ‘em for that round?” End of Scene

I didn’t take the bait. I pulled the folded photograph from my inside pocket and laid it face-up on the table between us. A girl. Pale hair, dark roots showing. A gaze that wasn’t pleading, but calculating. She’d been a runner, once. Before Jeff got his hooks in. He tilted his head, and a grin cracked

“She’s asking about the fourth round,” I said. “The private exhibition. The one not on the club’s books.”