“You do?” He briefly met my eyes before dropping his back down to his menu. “Everything looks good,” he said. “What are you going to get?”
“Meatloaf dinner,” I quickly replied. The shock on my friend’s face had me frowning. “What?”
Krew glanced at the menu and then back at me. “Really? Meatloaf?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because you hate meatloaf,” he said incredulously.
“That was then,” I gruffly retorted and looked away.
Krew leaned back against the booth. “I don’t think so…” Something was percolating in his head and I wasn’t liking it. “Are you going to answer any of the questions I asked earlier tonight?”
“Call the waitress. I’m hungry,” I grumbled, hoping the distraction worked.
He shook his head. “Stop changing the subject, Deck.”
“I’m not.” I leaned back, matching his frown. Before I got a chance to open my mouth, the damn waitress walked over.
“What’ll you have, boys?” I couldn’t ignore the condemnation in her tone.
“I’ll have a burger, medium, loaded. Fries, and a Coke,” Krew rumbled out.
“Same,” I added, my gaze fixed on Krew’s widening grin.
“Sure thing,” our irritable waitress griped, before striding toward the partially open doorway to the kitchen.
Krew waited a beat before he leaned forward, a glint of humor in his eyes. “I…” he trailed off as the chimes that were hung on the diner’s door rang.
I leaned slightly to the left, and caught sight of two men—and stiffened, because I recognized one of them. A hitman named Jay. The other one, I didn’t know. However, from the way he scanned the diner and then narrowed his gaze on us, he too, was a killer.
Every warning bell in my head sounded. The guy who was sitting by the door must have felt a shift in the air too, because he scooted out of the booth and fled, leaving only me and Krew and the two new customers.
I wanted to grab Krew and run, except Jay and his buddy had strategically blocked our exit. Hell, they weren’t here for a social visit.
With their eyes trained on our booth, I realized they were here for me. Why? I had no clue, but I’d find out soon enough.
The problem was that Krew was here, too, and in danger. Whatever was about to go down with these hitmen, I had to make sure their sights were solely on me, not on my friend.
I leaned in, checking the pocket where I stashed my nine mil, and whispered to Krew, “Don’t move. Keep your eyes forward and I’ll be right back.”
“What’s going on, Decker?” A flash of fear widened Krew’s eyes.
“Like I said, don’t move unless I call your name, and if I do, drop under the table. No hesitation. Understand, K?”
He went rigid, then gave me a barely perceptible nod of understanding. I slid out of the booth, stood, and took three steps toward the hitmen, blocking their sight of Krew.
I stared down the two men for a good thirty seconds before shifting my eyes to an empty table near the door. They understood immediately what I wanted. They each took a seat. Jay planted his skinny ass in the booth that faced the back of the diner—kiddy-corner from me. The other sat in a chair that partially faced the entrance.
The only other people I wondered about were the waitress and the cook. They had to have heard the door chimes. So why didn’t the waitress come out from the back? Was that Jay’s doing? I decided not to worry about it.
I grabbed a chair from the adjacent table, turned it around, and sat in full view of both men, all the while keeping an ear on Krew. With my Ruger still in my hoodie pocket, I rolled my shoulders and peered at Jay and his friend.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Jay. I did a job with him three years ago that involved the Columbian cartel. I saved his ass when they tried to separate his head from his body with a machete. Saving his life had created a bit of a bond between us—or what passed as one.
“The word is out that someone took the prize for Kane Maxwell,” he said before sliding a glance over to the guy I didn’t know.
“Who’s that?” I also looked over to the other hitman, who appeared to be an anxious mess, or just hopped up on something. I assumed the latter. His right leg bounced like a jack hammer and the pointer finger and thumb on his right hand kept flicking together.
