Jason Halberd

Jason Halberd was a homeless, or maybe semi-homeless, man willing to wash Avery’s car for twenty dollars (his tone made it clear he would accept less than that). He was tall and broad-shouldered, smudges of black grease on his hands suggesting he worked some blue-collar job that involved engines.
Not that long ago, it would have been unthinkable for Jason to rob someone. He was a sterling young man, an aspiring cop. He had been married. He drank, but only a reasonable amount, and only at night, only when his wife said it was okay (though he always pretended to his friends that he went out whenever he wanted).
Somehow it had all gone wrong. Somehow the drinking had controlled his life. Somehow his wife was gone and he had barely even ever met his daughter and he was on probation and he had to beg a judge to let him keep his driver’s license and he found himself panhandling on weekends to buy vodka that tasted like hairspray.
Jason had been a handsome baseball star in high school. But now his face was worked and worn by wind and worry, his six-pack abs replaced by a flat belly that had gained and lost too much weight to ever have a six-pack again, and his eyes were dim and dark now, his hair shaggy and unwashed because he slept on the floor of the garage where he worked. His ex-wife said he stank. It had been a long time since a non-homeless woman had looked at him like he was desirable, and outside of prostitutes and crackheads, he hadn’t had sex in years.
From Dubcon Alphas