–Chapter 90–
Morning sunlight entered through the window at one side of the room. while Dean sat at the edge of his bed counting his money for what was probably the fifth time since last night.
[Thirty thousand quids.]
The stack sat neatly across the mattress while Ash rested beside it like a protective slime gargoyle.
Every few seconds, the little slime stretched tiny tendrils toward the money before pulling back suspiciously as if trying to understand why Dean cared about colored paper so much.
Dean snorted softly. "You can't eat it buddy."
Ash pulsed once at his statement.
"Neither can I technically, but apparently people get angry when you stop paying for stuff."
The slime slowly rolled onto the pile possessively. Dean shook his head while recounting the notes again.
The betting den situation had gone better than expected. Better because Leona's name carried enough weight to stop things from turning ugly too quickly.
