A simple job

[Jaxen Marveet]

Boda

For all a man’s bravado, there were times in life when he was faced with a choice. These diversions in the yellow wood were not conscious paths; the core of a man shaped his decision before he himself even knew to make it. Would Boda flee? Or would he stand and fight? Defend his home and pride?

Fuck no. Boda wasn’t suicidal. At the first explosion, he was throwing open the front door and bolting down the path in nothing but silk pajamas flapping on the wind. The car remained parked on the street exactly where he left it. Maybe that was an odd choice for a man driving a $200,000 ride. Most would lock it away safe in a garage. Not Boda. Not tonight. He had every intention on a quick get-away.

That Hood fellow could have all the fun he wanted in the meantime.