rust and bone

,go home. "

Sansas turned his head stiffly, looking down at him slightly.

He frowned, and water flowed from the corner of his forehead.

Squearo repeated boldly: "Go home."

Sansas turned nonchalantly from him, and with his hands in his side pockets, he walked again through the early morning storm.

The return trip was silent.After walking for an unknown amount of time, he suddenly stopped and his shoulders collapsed.

Sansas wiped the water off his face with his hand: "...Go back, don't follow me."

The magnetic mezzo-soprano of the Florence Machine comes ethereally again from the rainy night.

He was angry and funny, and the dim orange light of the street lamp flashed on their faces.

"Are you an idiot, it's all here."

Squearo carefully opened the interlayer of the suitcase.Not surprisingly, there were a handful of large tickets stuffed indiscriminately inside.

That's probably all the wealth of this day and night patient with pink eye disease.

He took out 200 yuan, tied the rest with a rubber band, and stuffed it back.

With the $200, Squearo bought a home projector and a bootleg video of the America's Cup.

"Did you know—the whole country has—a dozen states—all—" Skelrow stood in front of the bathtub, reaching into the water to clean up the stubble clippings, and shouted to the living room.

The faucet, which had not been used for many years, let out a puff, and the first thing that rushed out was a large stream of yellow mud.

“—all through gun ban—hey!”

A pair of arms hugged him from behind, and he staggered in fright, almost falling into the bathtub.

"I said you—" He firmly grasped the slippery faucet with his only left hand, and the water splashed.

One hand was loosened, and the thumb was pressing down on the muscle line of his waist little by little. Sansas' voice returned to the charming dry hoarseness they had when they first fought.

"To shut up."

The hand finally stopped on the hip bone, and he only felt a chill on his thigh, and then there was the sound of the metal buckle of the belt hitting the ground.

"He surpassed!! He surpassed No. [-]! From Monaco..." In the home projector, the narrator shouted excitedly.

The hot water came up from the bathtub, he turned his head and hugged the man face to face.

He surpassed!He surpassed! !

—he surpassed it! ! !

Skearo let go of his left hand holding the dragon head, and the stainless steel dragon head left a bird-like light red mark on his back.

They fell into the water together, as if there were countless tiny blood vessels growing outwards sticking to each other's skin.

……what.

#10.5

His back hurts.

The home projector played day and night with bootleg discs that Squearo bought in Chinatown while they could hardly stop doing it.

Gone with the Wind, North Sea of ​​Texas, Knife in the Water, The Rainstorm is Coming, The Past of Meigang, Sparrow, Sicilian Legend, Return of the Godfather, Rust and Bone, Leon, Genius Ripley, Under the Sky of Berlin, Ancestor and Zhan...

Then they got bored and just lay quietly together, listening to Scarlett screaming in tears: "Silly, don't you love me at all?!"

Life like a dog in the mud, when can I see it bloom a flower.

"You've been playing this stuff for years?!"

Sansas dropped the syringe, still holding on to him.

"Probably as long as your alcoholic years." There was a deliberate whirring sound from the sensitive area of ​​his neck and shoulders.

"Sansas, you drug ghost."

Skearo pushed him away and walked to the bathroom, picked up the water and washed his face.A hand went around his back shoulder, picked up a handful of water and wiped it on his face, along the hairline, slowly inserted into his thick silver hair.

Skearo stared at his short hair, which was even rougher and clumsier after being wet with water in the round mirror.Rarely, the man gently rubbed his wet forehead with the scar on his hand.

#11

Luke Hartford.

He pushed back the plastic medical insurance card and frowned in confusion: "What are you going to do?"

Sansas picked it up, looked at it, and tossed another plastic card with Squearo's photo on it in front of him.

John Oz, a native of New Jersey.

Sanses didn't answer his question directly, but sank into the sofa, clasping his hands.Finally, he said slowly: "Do you know Clyde and Bonnie? [1]"

Squearo put the card into his coat: "What the hell are you thinking?!"

Sansas kept clasping his hands without answering.

—no one speaks, but enough is enough.

On a quiet morning after a torrential rain, the flooded streets are beginning to return to normal, with commuter lines forming long snakes in front of commuter stations.Skjaro opened the passenger door of the Ford Falcon.

"Wait a minute," he tapped on the roof of the car, "let's check again."

"Officially clock in at nine o'clock in the morning to go to work. After twelve o'clock, there is an hour of lunch time, and then from one o'clock to five o'clock is work time."

Sansas sat in the driver's seat, inserted the key into the lock, and the blue falcon let out a laborious roar of ignition.

"It can't be too early, there will be too many people before five o'clock. It can't be too late, don't cause unnecessary vigilance."

He has already sat in the co-pilot, and stretched out his hand to pull off the seat belt: "One last question, have you checked which one is the Chinatown branch?"

Sansas pulled on the handbrake and nodded.

—— Gabbinello.

The Falcon started violently and turned a sharp corner that was almost right-angled. He didn't care if his forehead hit the window frame.

Skelaro was in a good mood, and the buckle made a crisp click in the slot, and he whistled in response: "Nice job!"

Lynch Crossing Avenue separates Rockdale's expatriate district from the homes of local residents.Underneath the interchange on the south side of its iconic intersection is Morgan's Chinatown branch.

Not only the Chinese, almost all the wealth of the diaspora is concentrated here.

Moreover, for the robbers, this bank has another convenience that cannot be found elsewhere.

——The business here is basically cash transactions.

Squearo pushed open the glass door, went straight to the manager's desk and knocked.

"Sir, if it's convenient, we have something important to talk about."

The head of the branch with a gray face raised his head from a pile of data, and it was not difficult to tell from his appearance that he was a native of Rockdale.

"Is it important? As you can see..." He looked around at the hill-high documents around him, "At this hour, I still have a lot to do."

Squearo put one hand in his suit pants: "Yes, it's a very important matter, we hope we can take a step to speak."

He ran across cargo ships in the North Sea, imitating his Russian accent extremely well.

The branch manager stood up, stretched out his hand weakly and shook it: "This way please, both of you, I'm Brody from Morgan."

They sat down in the private room of the VIP business, and Brody rubbed his fat and short palms: "I don't know how I can help."

Squearo looked at Sansas with feigned hesitation, and the latter nodded silently with his hands in his trouser pockets.

“Actually, we’d like to save some money.”

He went on to try to get it right: "We're from New Jersey."

Brody's dusty face was pale.

Squearo slowly took off his sunglasses: "No, please don't get me wrong, we are not a mafia."

He handed over the forged health insurance card and tugged at the lapel of his shirt to make the priest's Sunday shirt more visible.

“We hope to be able to provide some help for our fellows in Virginia as well.”

Brody pushed the medical insurance card over from the table, "Ruble?" Maybe he was unnecessarily frightened, his voice sounded a little tired, "I'm sorry, it may be difficult to deposit foreign currency in the bank."

Squearo pressed the pullet-like palm he wanted to retract.

"Do not."

Brody blinked: "What are you doing, Mr. Oz from the Slav, this is a bank."

He didn't intend to let go, sighed, and shook his head slowly: "Disappointing, Mr. Brody, I thought you were as familiar with the business of expatriates as foreigners."

"We're going to save gold."

He let go of the branch manager's hand and watched the interesting facial changes at this time.Brody blinked again, his pale face resembling a marmot.

He finally cleared his throat, showing an expression of disgust towards an ignorant child: "I'm afraid you don't understand it very well. In the United States, the banks that accept hard currency are all on Wall Street. If you want, I can help you contact—— "

A click interrupted him, and Skearo wrapped his coat and leaned back, and there was a sharp sound of pulling the insurance from his waist.

At the same time, an Angolan silver tail ring was thrown in front of the branch manager.

Skearona stroked his middle finger back and forth on the leather sofa: "We're just esoteric preaching priests," his hand stopped, "but that doesn't mean the Mafia in New Jersey doesn't need the help of higher forces. "

He stared at the branch manager's groundhog-like face with extremely oppressive eyes: "The Lord's people will be sad for your ignorant remarks."

Brody almost shrunk into a fat bowling ball, and looked at Sansas, who never spoke, as if asking for help.

"If you can help, the ring over there can be used as a thank you."

"We don't like the government, and we don't like southerners, please, don't make a big deal out of it."

There was a rustling sound of his fingers on the barrel of Walter's gun.

Sansas didn't even look at him, Brody looked away and swallowed hard.

Finally, he finally shook his shoulders and muttered a compromise: "Okay gentlemen... I'll contact the state branch and ask for a few large safes in my personal name..."

brody reach out