Page 52 of Mile High Heist

I shoved myself into the booth next to Martha, who wasted no time plastering herself against my shoulder.

The Viper smiled as he tipped a bottle of whiskey into two shot glasses. “This is Japanese whiskey,” he said, as if I’d fucking asked. Or cared. “You will drink with me.”

I stared at it flatly.

“So paranoid,” he chuckled. To prove a point, he tipped a shot back into his mouth and swallowed it in one easy go. “See?” he smirked. “Still not poison.”

Beside me, Martha laughed. “He’s so tense,” she said, nudging at my shoulder. “Go on, Noah.”

I didn’t move an inch.

The Viper smiled again, as if amused by my resistance. “How about we play a game instead?”

“How about you kiss my ass?”

Martha snorted into her drink, causing it to spill everywhere. “Oh, silly me.” I flinched when her hands fussed over my now saturated lap.

Amused, the Viper reached into his jacket. I tensed again, expecting a gun. Or a fucking live snake. He was clearly a fan of theatrics.

What he pulled out instead was a single brass coin.

“5-yen,” he said, twirling it between his fingers. “The coin of good fortune. Are you feeling lucky, Noah?”

No. I wasn’t. Not when the game was rigged, and my opponent was a murderous lunatic.

Taking my silence as consensus, he tossed the coin into the air and let it hit the table like a bullet shell. Then he slapped his hand on top of it, covering it. “This was my favorite game as a boy, simple as it is. Sometimes, simple is better. Less…chaos.”

I narrowed my eyes and considered dousing the fucker in his drink.

“Heads or tails?”

I said nothing, but Martha spoke for me. “Head, dear. We like head.”

The Viper’s brow arched. “Last chance, Noah. What do you say?”

Something was wrong. An uneasy feeling crawled into my gut. “What are the stakes?”

“Ah. So glad you asked.” Keeping his hand on the coin, he poured himself another shot. “Choose wrong, you lose. Choose right, you take a drink.”

“That’s it?”

“Not quite.” His smile took on a cutting edge, a hint of venom bleeding through.

My fists clenched under the table. I was tempted to launch out of the bar and check on my people, but that was what he wanted. Me spooked. Me nervous. I stayed in my seat with a wet lap and a stony expression.

There was more to the game. A hidden gun I couldn’t see, a bomb waiting to be detonated. I wasn’t a gambler. I played the odds and hedged my bets. I never considered myself lucky. I sure as shit wasn’t feeling lucky now.

“It is clear to me,” the Viper went on, conversationally, “that you don’t intend to honor our deal—of course, what else could I expect from a dishonorable thief?”

“I never agreed to any deal.”

“So you say, but you have no other options. Now you have forced my hand.”

I swallowed, glancing around suspiciously. What the hell did that mean?

Martha pawed at my arm, finding my bicep tensed and ready to cock.

The Viper smiled. “Relax, Noah. I want to give you a chance to win back my goodwill.”