Page 120 of Tormented

THIRTY-FOUR

Sawyer

“You’ve got this pretty well planned out, huh?” I take the tumbler of whiskey King offers.

“Got to be a point to my sleepless nights, right?”

“Guess so.”

“I’m sure I don’t need to check you’re on board?” he asks with a sly grin.

“Fuck, man—you’ve just cleared the plate for it to be me and my old man puttin’ this shit to bed once and for all.” I grin, wide and genuine. “I’m all fuckin’ in.”

This is going to be so much fun . . . .

Going to need to give you a workout to prepare, aren’t I?

You really know how to sweet talk me, don’t you?

“You think it’s achievable, though?” I take a swig of the drink. “I mean, you’ve got a lot of players here, a lot of pieces that have to fall into place just right.”

“I’ve got backups, plan B’s, the works.” King drops into his seat, kicking his boots up onto the desk. “Sick of fuckin’ being walked over by your asshole father. Sick of him underestimatin’ me.”

“Hear, hear.” I raise my glass.

“Time he was laid to rest, don’t you think?”

“Fucker should have had lead between the eyes years ago.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t make it that easy on him now, would you?” King smirks, raising his tumbler to his lips.

“Not in a month of Sundays.”

The two of us sit in amicable silence, grinning at each other like the sick fucks we are. Only difference is King is the kind of person who believes in second chances, and I’m most likely to shoot on sight.

Like the time you killed that bitch so she would stop sharing how pathetic your virgin ass was at popping her cherry . . . .

Shut the fuck up. So her murder was questionable. Still. She should have known not to run her mouth all over town like that.

But what? You’re so much better with your self-control now . . .?

I like to think of myself as a work in progress.

“Hooch is already here somewhere.” King places his empty tumbler on the desk. “You know how he likes to party up large when he has somethin’ to celebrate, so I suggest you take the opportunity to rest up before the rest of the ragtag bunch arrive.”

I laugh, placing my own glass on the edge of the desk. “Not all of us are as old and worn out as you.”

“Easy now.” He lifts an eyebrow in friendly warning. “I ain’t that much older than you.”

“Maybe not, but the job’s aged you plenty.”

“Has it ever.” He draws a hand over his face and sighs. “Best go see what Bronx and that girl he brought in here are up to.”

I nod as I rise out of the chair, stepping aside so he can open the door.

“Let me know if you think of anything else, yeah?” King says as he passes by.

I stop him with a quick tap on the shoulder. “Will Ramona be here tonight?”