staring at my broken will when i'm too tired to hide (fic)

“You gonna kill me?”

That was the only reason a guy like him would be alone in an abandoned building with a guy like fourteen year old Neil Blair. He was less than five feet tall, not quite a hundred pounds soaking wet, and spent half his time in hospitals sick with shit doctors couldn't fix. The guy across from him was next level bad news.

Damn near seven feet tall, in bike leathers, with a goatee that made him look like the fucking devil—and he'd paid that shithead senior, Kyle Lockhart, a thousand bucks to get Neil here for a meeting.

( Yeah, this guy was into some serious shit. And Neil was probably gonna die. )