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The door to the bar opened—and Silas walked inside.
I tapped my fingers on the counter to get the bartender’s attention. “Listen to me carefully. After you make this guy a drink, excuse yourself to the back and don’t come out again.”
His eyes widened and he stilled, like my words paralyzed him.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Silas came around the corner, a fat smile on his face. “Drinking alone?”
“My favorite way to drink.”
He kept a stool between us and slammed his hand on the bar. “Vodka cranberry.”
Piss juice.
With shaky hands, the bartender poured the drink, spilled a little on the counter, and then placed it in front of Silas.
“You going to clean that up?” Silas demanded.
“Of course…” He wiped it up with a rag. “I need to get more napkins from the back.” He walked off and left us alone.
I drank my scotch and ignored him. “What do you want, Silas?”
He sat on the stool, his body pivoted toward mine. “Who said I want anything?”
“Don’t you have work to do?” I’d put him on assignment this week, and he’d clearly chosen to disregard it. I was aware of that, but I pretended not to be.
Silas turned quiet, my comment getting under his skin.
Exactly as I’d intended.
I pivoted on the stool and met his look head on. “So, what’s your plan? To shoot me? Who wears a jacket in July?” He had a small pistol in his left pocket, so he could casually slip his hand inside and pull the trigger without me knowing. Oldest trick in the book.
Silas did his best to keep a straight face, but he failed.
“I have a better idea.” I tilted my head back and finished off the drink. “Let’s do this—man-to-man.” I pulled my shirt over my head, revealing my naked torso. There was no bulletproof vest to protect me. I got to my feet, grabbed a beer from behind the counter, and then slammed it down, breaking the bottle until it was just a shard in my hand.
Silas watched me, his hand still on his glass.
In that moment, the door opened, and his backup arrived. Probably thought I’d be dead right now.
“Kill me—and you take it all.”
His eyes shifted back and forth.
“Or you can just shoot me like a coward. That sounds more like your style.”
That got him on his feet. He grabbed a bottle and slammed it down. Beer and froth poured out, and he had his sharp weapon to take me down.
The other people in the bar hightailed it out of there, heading to the emergency exit to get on the street as quickly as possible.
I kicked aside one of the nearby tables so we’d have room to slice each other apart. I faced him, the bottle gripped in my hand, my heart beating slow and steady. It was a long standoff, the two of us just looking at each other.
Then he lunged, slicing the shard through the air.
I stepped out of the way and immediately ducked, anticipating his next swing. I stayed on the defense, letting him swing and miss time and time again, letting him drain all his energy with this uncoordinated attack.
