CRACK!
A loud noise startled Kinzer and Lyle.
They turned to the door.
Hayde came at them, his dagger at his side, his eyes filled with rage.
Kinzer leapt to the side.
This was it. He’d finally decided to off him. But why now?
Hayde went for Lyle. He grabbed him by the throat, forced him up against the wall, and stuck the dagger against his throat.
“What do you know?” he asked.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Kinzer asked.
“This is how you get intel.”
“Hayde, calm the fuck down!”
Lyle shivered under Hayde’s grip.
Hayde’s face reddened. He pulled him forward and shoved him back against the wall forcefully.
“What did you find out about fucking Feinstein Corp? Tell me before you have to use a catheter for the rest of your life!”
“It’s all in my bag… right there. Take it. Just take it.”
Hayde turned to Kinzer and motioned to the bag with his head. “Just get it!”
“This is not the way to handle this,” Kinzer muttered.
He took the bag and his clothes.
“Tell anyone about this,” Hayde said, “and you’ll regret it, you got that?”
Kinzer snatched Hayde’s wrist and pulled him away.
“Okay. He gets it. Just come on. Come on.”
Hayde allowed him to force him out of the room. They headed down the walkway, to the room where Hayde had been.
“What the fuck was that?” Kinzer asked.
As they came to their room, Kinzer wiggled into his jeans and fished through the pockets. He found his key and opened the door.
The bedpost he’d tied Hayde to was split in two.
“Seriously?” Kinzer asked. “I could have handled that by myself.”
He turned back to the room they’d come from and saw Lyle dashing out, zipping his pants as he raced into the parking lot.
“You’re fucking welcome,” Hayde said. “In case you didn’t notice, I just made your job that much easier.”
“You can’t treat people like that, Hayde.”
“I’ll treat people however the fuck I want to treat them. This is a war, Kinzer. Fucking act like it!”
