They didn’t throw him out the door; it wasn’t like some oater, but they set him on the sidewalk a good 10 or 15 feet away. Sans cowboy hat.“Don�...�t come back, Wexler.”“Fuck you.”Walker: “Your six, yo.”Pilar: “Motherfuck the po-po.”I kept a loose tail on Wexler three more nights in a row. During the day he was either in the Butler Brothers storefront office or making the rounds of their security clients. He’d talk with an on-duty Butler guard, sometimes a customer. But I stayed mostly out of. My heart plunged as he reached over my shoulder, fishing out the text. I was in too much shock, had too little control over the situation to prevent it. He began to read what I had written, every sordid little detail I had confessed. I felt naked, more exposed now than I had been after my assailant had stripped me of my clothes and my dignity."Bran-" I began. His eyes met mine for an instant, burning with an unreadable emotion. He held out one hand, palm out; I subsided, shrinking as he pored. More

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