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Well, that job had gone to shit fast, but it was done. And at least Williams had brought him back his stash from her flat, everything packed away neatly in a guitar case that he was currently hauling back to the safe house Jack was letting him use until he was sure his flat was clear.

Cigarette dangling from his lips, his hair looked wild and he kept finding tiny bits of tempered glass in his pocket. "For fucks sake," he muttered, dusting another bit off him.

He came back later than he'd hoped, Holding his side as he came through the door, his hair damp and messy.

He didn't see Jack right away, staggering over to the sink to try and wash himself up before Jack could see he'd been stabbed. This week was an absolute shit-show, and it was only getting worse. For every good thing that happened, it was as though the bad only got worse.