Dalton
Entering Wet Wanda’s is almost like coming home. Weird, I know, but I’ve spent so much of my life in this place. The dark, hazy atmosphere is exactly what I need right now. Smoking hasn’t been allowed in Bowling Green bars for years, but here people do whatever the hell they want to.
You’ve gotta respect people who give a middle finger to what’s supposed to be right, and just do what they want.
Drew is standing in the corner, his arms folded over his chest, nodding at something Jagger’s saying. Walking over to them, I wait until there’s a lull in the conversation.
“How’s it going tonight?”
“Getting busier.” Drew chews on a piece of gum. “But it’s still early. Jagger and I were talking about a possible new recruit.”
“Oh yeah?” I turn to the other member of the club.
He’s older than us, but you’d never know it. He doesn’t seem to age.
“Yeah, a teacher who works with B.”
I raise my brow. “A teacher?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, you’d be surprised. He seems legit.”