Romeo turned off the truck's engine in the driveway of the big white house on 9th Street in San Angelo. He stole a glance at Slappy and tried not to grimace. Ah, Christ, he thought, he's got a hell of a shiner coming up. He felt guilty for losing his temper and hitting the boy, then felt resentful that he'd been driven to it by his stupid mouth.
Charles could tell she was a whore right away. Nice girls didn’t respond that quick, even if they were wild. He’d never actually been to a real whore himself, but he’d read about them and considered himself quite the sophisticate. It wasn’t the first time he'd managed to lure a girl into the manikin storage room at Sweeger’s department store, however.