“You think this is funny?” The vein in Daniel Price’s forehead began to bulge. “Is this all a big fucking joke to you?”
I thinkyou’rea joke.“Look, man.” Walker shrugged. “I get that your boss is pissed, but it is what it is.”
“It is what it…Jesus Christ.” The guy ran a hand through his hair, mussing up his perfect politician hair. “You said you were the best.Everybodysaid you were the best.”
“What can I say? Even superstars have their off days. I mean”—he chuckled—“who knew a MacBook could stop a fucking bullet?”
“You should have!” Price took a large step toward him. “The deadliest assassin around shouldn’t haveoffdays. That sort of thing makes me and my boss very suspicious.”
His boss. That would be the man favored as the frontrunner against President Russell in next year’s election.
Price was the crooked bastard’s Chief of Staff, and the kiss-ass was hellbent on making sure his boss’s secrets remained silent. Secrets he believed Ellena Dawson knew.
“Fine.” Walker turned his back on Price and began walking toward the door. Despite the gun he’d just seen the fucker pull from his back waistband, he raised his left hand in a half-assed wave. “I’m sick of this bullshit, anyway. See you around, Price.”
“Freeze.”
With a roll of his eyes, Walker halted his movements. Exhaling loudly, he turned back around, nearly snorting when he saw the way the idiot was standing there.
Gun pointed out in front of him. Legs spread too wide. Arms shaking like a leaf in a fucking windstorm.
Dumbass has probably never even shot a gun before.
“I can’t let you leave.” Price swallowed hard. “Not knowing what you know.”
Sweat was already beading on the man’s forehead, and Walker would bet money he’d probably piss his pants if he actually did end up pulling the trigger.
“So…what?” Walker raised a brow as he began walking back toward Price. You’re going to shoot me?”
“I told you.” Price’s voice trembled. “I-I don’t have a choice.”
A few more steady steps. “Oh, there’s always a choice, Danny Boy.”
“Not with this, there isn’t. I have to protect him.”
“And you think by killing me you’re protecting him?”
“I’ve killed before, you know.” Price licked the sweat from his upper lip. “Just two nights ago, in fact. Shot a man in cold blood.”
“Oh?”This should be good.“And who, pray tell, did you kill?”
The wimp finally grew a set of balls—or, at least, he tried to. Jutting his pointy assed chin up a notch, Price said, “Someone who knew too much.”
Shit.Walker was really hoping for a name. “Isn’t that what you hired me for?”
“It was an…unexpected opportunity. But I handled it. All by myself. Besides, you were supposed to be focused on finding the Dawson bitch.”
Meaning whoever Price killed, it was done so out of pure panic and without any sort of planning.
Fucking amateur.
“Right. Well, as fun as this has been”—Walker started to turn back around—“you and I both know you’re not going to pull the trigger. Frankly I’ve grown tired of your and your boss’s games, so I’ll see you aroun—”
A loud explosion filled the abandoned warehouse as Price did, in fact, pull that trigger. The shot went wide, but surprisingly, not by much.
“Seriously?” Walker shot the man an incredulous look. In one, smooth motion, he drew his own weapon from the shoulder holster hiding beneath his somewhat tattered jacket.
“The second shot won’t miss,” Price warned. He readjusted his hold on the gun.
