From the old mattress in the cell of the Turkish prison, he looked to the 16 year-old girl. Muddy red Converse, old T-shirt of an obscure indie band, tied brown hair and bright brown eyes gazed back at him with a smile.
After three months living alone with his own excrements, Spankin' was a mirage. He wanted to hug her, but she took a step back. "Don't get me wrong, Liam, but you're stinking."
Hopkins smiled back and groaned, pressing his right ribs. Damn guard, damn gunshot.
"I'd be lost without you." Liam sat on the dirty mattress with a another grunt and gazed at her. Spankin' gave him a half smile. They both knew what would come next. "But where the hell is Clark, kid?"