I convinced Sherm to bring in one of the big bottles of water for the cooler, and we gave everybody a sip. I dribbled some down John’s throat too. Sherm was bored. “So tell us, Dugan. How long have you been banging Sharon?” Corded, ropy muscles rippled underneath Dugan’s chambray work shirt as he bristled, straining against his bonds. “Why, you little piece of shit. You’d better hope I don’t get loose, boy. I’ll strangle you with my bare hands.” Sharon tried to shush him, but Dugan ignored her. “I won’t have him talking that way about you. Enough is enough!” Sherm laughed. “Hey, man, all I did was ask you a question. But since you don’t want to answer nicely . . .” He picked up the gun and walked toward Dugan. “I’ve fucking had it with you people.
