“Are we going to have a problem here?” Penn asked them.

As he looked at each man, they looked down at their papers. None of there were willing to call him on his status and he was glad. He didn’t want a fight. He wanted to get along but on his terms. He’d always lived on his terms. At least since he’d aged out of foster care.

There was no other way to live when the first eighteen years of your life had been out of your control. He’d been the troubled kid, in and out ...