Nothing feels real right now. It's like I'm trapped in this horrible nightmare that I can't get out of. What else could you possibly call the psycho mobster that wanted to use my face as his own personal canvas, and threatened to do to me what his goons did to my car tracking us all the way here and shooting Logan (and if not for my dad, me too)? I
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"Well, I can't say I blame Weevil for wanting to do something on his own to find out the truth. I'd be a bit of a hypocrite if I did." I said simply. Sure, Weevil and I weren't exactly friends, but at this point we had a mutual respect thing going on. "And I don't believe for a second he was behind that bus crash. Cervando was on it." I told my dad. I couldn't believe Weevil would go that far no matter what might have happened between them. Kick him out of the PCHers, sure. Beating him with in an inch of his life also seemed likely, but taking out a bus full of kids like that? The ones who couldn't afford other transportation? It just didn't make sense ( ... )
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