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Chapter 8

“What is it with you Italians?” he sneers. “Where did you learn your manners? You come to a party where you’re not invited. Eat my food, drink my liquor. Then you break into my house. Try to burn it the fuck down. And you steal from me . . .”

I feel Sebby stiffen ever so slightly. He doesn’t look back at me, but I know he wants to.

I’m also confused about what the fuck Calester is talking about. Then I remember the pocket watch, still tucked in the front pocket of my shorts. I’d completely forgotten about it.

“Look,” Sebby says, “the fire was an accident. We don’t want any trouble.”

“Well that’s just bullshit, isn’t it?” Calester says softly. “You came looking for trouble. And now you’ve got it.”

It’s not easy to rile up Sebby. Threatening his little sister is a good way to do it. Now he’s bristling, balling up his fists in return, and stepping all the way in front of me.

“You think you’re some kinda tough guy, bringing your boyfriend along?” Sebby says, jerking his head toward the st
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