Stan flew into a rage and punched me. “You’ll do what I want or else.”Sadly, I gave in. Stan took me in a none too gentle manner and wandered of..., leaving me alone on the ground.After that, I avoided Stan like the plague, even in school. I was devastated and couldn’t understand why this had happened. Was it my fault? What had I done wrong?One day, Simon, a boy in our school approached me. “Stay away from Stan, you Tosspot; he's my lover now.”Simon and Harold were one of several other boy. The trip from Houston to Kansas City was a solid 12 hours by car and his convoy had started much later than Carlos wanted to. He had killed two more of the illegal immigrants and one of their brats while waiting to leave. It was the only way to satiate the rage boiling through his mind. He wasn't worried about killing the illegals. His men brought several hundred or more across the border every day that he could choose from and there were a million more where they came from. Someplace in the. More

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