Chapter 43

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guess who's back motherfuckas

Charlie's POV a date I can't actually be bothered to remember

I'm going to kill him.

I may be an almost comatose skinny medical nerd but I'm going to kill him.

I storm through the streets the Los Angeles, ignoring the pounding in my chest and the searing agony cutting through my heartstrings one at a time.

Finally.

I see him.

'Hello Charlie!' the bastard calls out. There are lines etched into the corners of his eyes, outlined by dark shadows, imprints of night of regret.

Funny.

I don't recall 'Mr. Perfect' ever having acne...

Suddenly, I hear a scream and the last thing I see is the bloodied fist of Wes Friar.

Alive

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