ROMAN

I take another deep drink of my beer as I stare at the photo in my phone, one my private investigator just sent to me.

A scoff escapes my lips and I set the phone down. What I want to do is throw this shit across the room, but I just leave it where it is on the counter of the bar and keep drinking.

I'm disheveled and I don't give a damn. I haven't shaved in like forever. My beard is prickly and whenever I look in the mirror, I see my father. The only other thing I need to be an exact ...