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THE FALLEN PACK

KANE

“Where the f*ck do I start? This place is a mess.”

‘We aren’t in yet, Kane.’

‘I’m not blind.’

‘But your memory is. I can bet on a thousand bucks that you don’t remember this place.’

‘Keep your mouth shut f*cker.’ But the f*cker was right. I have memory problems and only remember the things I have to. How was I meant to know I had to store this sh*thole in my memory? ‘Use your mouth for something useful and tell me how we get in here.’

‘You climbed before, dummy. You might as well just break the front door.’

I did just that and the interior was more disgusting but what did I expect?

The night’s darkness didn’t help the lifeless shadows of Southpaw’s packhouse. It smelt of peeled paint and mud. The floor was wet and I thought it couldn’t get worse until I went straight into a f*cking cobweb.

“F*ck!” I screamed, fighting the cobweb off me.

‘Sheesh, it’s not taekwondo.’

I better get s
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