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The new tattoos hadn’t helped, he thought, sighing. He really didn’t know how to make it any more obvious for them—studs in his eyebrows, shaved head, leather and metal draped over a muscular frame, the hunting knife in his back pocket.
Shaking his head at the folly of women, he threw the shovel into the bed of his truck.
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I was thinking serial killers usually keep a lower profile, but you have to figure some guys are just that ballsy. It reminds me of what a wise woman said. If he tells you he's no good, believe him.
