I frown a little, looking Jackson over, wondering what his plans are. I mean, he’s dressed – he’s got a coat. If he was just going back to his room, he’d be in pajamas, wouldn’t he?
“I’m going to go watch the fight in a bar,” he says, nodding to me. “Actually, the one I used to work at – I’m going with the guys I used to live with, those three months I lived here.”
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