“So,” I said, folding my hands in my lap, “let’s talk.”
His eyes dragged over me, head to toe, as if I might be hiding a gun somewhere. As if that would even be possible in scrubs.
“You can take the mask off. I mean, I know who you—”
“Shut up!” he barked. “I’m not John Myers. I’m just a friend helping him negotiate things.”
I nodded. Slow. Careful. “Makes sense. Then let’s negotiate. Tell me what Myers wants. Obviously, he wouldn’t be talking to Harlow or sending you after me if he didn’t want something.”
He rocked back and forth on the couch.
Finally, he locked eyes with me.
Brown eyes. Bloodshot.
“Myers needs money,” he said. “A lot of it. Fucking Harlow found him and dragged this whole shitshow into the open again.” A sharp sniff. “No way he trusts that piece of shit to get his charges dropped. This whore told Myers you will pay for him to leave.”
I nodded, agreeing. “I would. How much does he want?”
Myers shrugged, the motion jerky. “Don’t know. Maybe a hundred K?”
He watched my face closely. When I didn’t laugh, he sat up straight.
“No, wait. More like five hundred K.”
I stayed still. Kept nodding.
“No. Fucking wait, man.” His voice rose. “One million. Yeah. He wants one million for this shit.”
“Okay,” I said. “One million.”
Something loosened in him, and his lips formed into a crooked smile.
“Yeah,” he said, lighter now. “Fucking one million. Yeah.”
“Sounds fair,” I said. “And what else does my family get in return for one million?”
“You stupid?” he snapped, arm stretching out, the barrel aimed at me. “He’ll leave the area. Like you want him to. And I won’t shoot you. After everything your fucking family put him through, I should blow your brains out. Let you join your mom in hell!”
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. My gaze held his, steady, flat.
Finally, he scoffed and pulled the gun back a few inches.
“Fine,” he said. “You also get the fucking murder weapon for a mill. How about that?”
My brows pulled together. “The one in this picture? May I?” I pointed toward my pockets, slow enough for him to see the movement.
When he didn’t tense up, I slowly pulled out the picture of the knife. “This one?”
“Yeah. Fucking that one.”
“Is that the smoking gun Thomas Harlow promised you in exchange for dropping your charges?”
His eyes widened.
“I see.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe you believed him. And how would buying the murder weapon from you benefit my family anyway?”
He shot up from the couch so fast the cushions fell. “You little shit! How about I just shoot you!”
