“Alright,” he said, resolve hardening his tone. “Let’s meet at the old warehouse on 5th. Midnight. Bring the tape.”
A pause. Then a soft, familiar laugh. The memory surged—rain-soaked streets, neon signs, and a promise made under a broken streetlamp. pissplay220812bruceandmorgancallmename
The line went dead, leaving Bruce alone with the hum of the streetlights and the echo of a promise that might finally set them both free. “Alright,” he said, resolve hardening his tone
