Granite Grit (Fighting's In The Blood #1) - Plot & Excerpts
A discreet Thursday night. Micky mixing at the bar with the locals. The juke-box volume kept low. I stayed off the powder and ale for the past week, feeling human again. Micky looked anguished sipping his pint, staring into space from time to time. Thinking he was having a bad come-down, or maybe paranoid. “Joe, want a dram?” Micky asked. “No mate, orange-juice for me the night. No drinking behind the bar.” The unlicensed boxing was rarely talked about in public. Certain people knew about it and when anyone asked, I would conveniently change the subject. Similar to the football-hooligan scene, everyone knew but nobody spoke about it, unless you were all involved. You never knew who couldn’t be trusted. “Fuckin’ orange juice, always knew you were a poof.” Nodding me out the way of the punters, wanting a moment in private. “What is it?” Leaning his weight over the oak surface.
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