The room where he had arranged the meeting was gross. That was the best word for it, though 'disgusting' worked as well. The floor was littered with tin foil, used syringes, condom wrappers and food leftovers, the smell was hard to pinpoint but truly bad and the only light came from a streetlight right outside the broken window, through which a chilly wind came.
Neil was early. Whenever he was dealing, he didn't mind making people wait, but this was important. To him. He had no guarantee this was a good idea, but he was running out of options fast.
He breathed out slowly. This was it.
He adjusted the glove that hid his prosthetic, out of habit. He then forced himself to sit down on a worn, moldy couch. If she didn't want to be in he still had other options, Keith for one, but most of them weren't the sharpest tools in the shed, so working with them would force Neil to adjust his gameplan.
He checked his phone. Not much longer. It felt like forever though, since he himself had been so early.