Is that his trigger finger?
He blew a piece of his greasy, blue-black hair away from his cold, lifeless, dark eyes. They reminded me of obsidian. Fathomless. Deadly. And they were centered on me.
From the way he kept shifting his rangy build in the seat, he was a tweaker, and even more unpredictable and dangerous.
Then the asshole honed in on Krew, and I wasn’t having it. “Keep your eyes on me,” I growled before turning back to Jay. “What are you doing here and who the hell is this guy?” I tipped my head toward the fucker.
“Don’t worry about me.” The cunt chuckled like he had made a funny. But all I saw was a dangerous clown with a twitchy itchy finger.
His unblinking scrutiny would have been unnerving to the average person. To me? I took him in, and glared right back like I was impenetrable.
“This is Frankie,” Jay said, his thumb jerking toward his friend—if one could call him that. In our world, there was only a thin, fractured line between an enemy and a friend.
Ignoring the tweaker, I refocused on Jay. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
“The word is that you killed Kane.” Jay smiled.
“Why does it matter?” Not wanting to fully commit to the deed, I deflected. “For all I know, it could have been you.”
“No, man. I’m a good shot, but that was way out of my league, especially with that many eyes on the target.” Jay shook his head. “I know only two men who have the balls and the talent. And one of them is vapor.”
He meant Merrick, but I didn’t react or say his name.
My eyes slid to Frankie, who slowly pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his front shirt pocket, smacked the bottom of the pack with the palm of his other hand and then ripped the top open.
Christ, I could use a smoke right about now.
After Frankie took a cigarette out, he placed it between his yellowed teeth, lit it and took a long drag. He then pointed to my crotch. “Big brass balls you have there,” Frankie taunted, his gravelly voice full of vinegar. Tendrils of smoke filtered out of his nostrils and mouth.
“Man, I don’t have time for a social visit.” I didn’t want to waste my breath on these fuckers. The way Frankie kept looking toward Krew… Suddenly everything clicked into place. This was a hit. I knew deep in my gut. But who was the target?
Shit.
I was so caught up on hanging with Krew, that I let these pieces of shit infiltrate the space. No matter, Krew was walking out of here alive. Me? I’d take my chances. Only I’d kill these assholes first before I bit the dust.
“Jay?” I asked as casually as I could muster while shifting my feet slightly apart, so I didn’t rouse suspicions that I was ready to reach for my nine.
“Sorry, Moss,” Jay said evenly, also shifting in his seat. It was a small tell—enough to cause my trigger finger to twitch. In our line of work, reading body language could mean the difference between life and death.
“For what?” I asked, as my eyes bounced between Frankie and Jay.
“We shouldn’t have come in here.” Jay kept his palms up—he was here to talk. But Frankie was way too fidgety for my liking.
“Then leave.”
“No, man. We came here for the food,” Frankie said with a fake, wide smile, his hands were palms down. He was ready to strike.
Two can play at this game, motherfucker.
“Then why ask about Kane?” I casually moved my right hand to the table, adjusting my position again, so I could also reach for my gun.
“Just curious.” Jay shrugged. Another tell. Something big was happening, but he wasn’t saying. Yet.
“You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat,” I replied, my eyes staying on Frankie.
“Who’s your friend?” Frankie pointed the cigarette at Krew.
“He’s none of your business.” Then I said to Jay, “I suggest you find another place to eat.”
