Ruthless Junkies Book Club - Curtis Duncan Bounty Hunter CH 31-42 With Epilogue скачать в хорошем качестве

Ruthless Junkies Book Club - Curtis Duncan Bounty Hunter CH 31-42 With Epilogue

Bounty Hunter - Origin Story Curtis Duncan I was around eight when my dad, Larry Duncan, started dragging me into the thick woods behind our little house in Waycross, Georgia. Not to track deer. Not to cast a line. He brought me there to learn how to fight. He always said a boy should know how to defend himself long before he learns how to drive. Waycross sat quietly in the deep southeast corner of Georgia, a small city with the easy rhythm of the South. With barely fifteen thousand souls calling it home, it wasn't the kind of place where life rushed by—it lingered, like the sticky summer heat that clung to your skin. They called it the gateway to the Okefenokee, that vast, mysterious swamp stretching out like an ancient ocean of cypress and shadow, one of the last great untouched wilds in America. The town itself owed its name to the roads—U.S. 1, U.S. 82, U.S. 84 all meeting here, crossing and knotting together like threads in a tapestry. Folks called it a crossroads town. But for us Duncan's, it was more than asphalt and signs pointing elsewhere; it was home. A place where the past still lingered close, where trains once thundered through, and where the swamp beyond the tree line whispered its own dark secrets. Out beneath the tall Georgia pines, the air sat thick with sap and the sweet bite of damp red clay. Each step you took sank into the earth as if the ground itself wanted to hold you there, to test your grit and your will. When other kids were handed shiny toys or baseball bats, my pops pressed something different into my hands— an old pair of Everlast gloves. The faded red leather was cracked, the laces stiff, the padding worn down to almost nothing. They smelled of sweat and years, of lessons carved into every scuff and tear. He didn't tell me about the struggle. He didn't have to. Out there, under the heavy hush of the pines, I learned what I needed, and I learned it quick. "First rule," he said, voice low and steady, "never swing first unless you absolutely have to. But if you do don't miss." I used trees for punching bags. 🎙️ New to streaming or looking to level up? Check out StreamYard and get $10 discount! 😍 https://streamyard.com/pal/d/60112276...