Bad Blood

KNOX

I fling the door open and stare at my son. He’s not a large man, but he’s inherited my height. At six feet- three inches, his short girlfriend looks much like a child. His arm possessively holds her to his side like a woman clutches a designer handbag she can’t afford. Something flashy to show the world that he’s somebody.

Dean’s always been weak that way, unable to stand on his own merit. M