Rick lifted a hand and returned Elliot’s smile, even though he didn’t feel it. “Yeah.”
“What the hell—” Elliot glanced around, then back at the tire. “How are you?”
Rick’s gaze flicked to the flat tire. He let it sit between them for a second, like it was the reason he’d come over. “Looks like you’ve got a problem.”
Elliot huffed a laugh and angled the phone in his hand. “Yeah, no kidding. I’ll get someone out. There’s a guy who does call-outs for the studio. He owes me one.”
“Unlucky,” Rick said.
Elliot shrugged like a flat tire was just a delay, and nothing more. “It happens.”
Rick stopped a few feet away, close enough that Elliot could see his face properly now. Close enough that Elliot’s smile started to thin.
“You didn’t answer my message,” Elliot said.
Rick stared at him. “I saw your interview.”
Elliot’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh. That.”
Rick kept his voice even. “You had a lot to say.”
“It was nothing but a puff piece. You know how those go.”
“It didn’t sound like nothing.”
Elliot held Rick’s gaze, still trying to play it off. “Come on. It’s not like I called you a murderer.” He laughed again, too loudly this time. “I said you can be difficult. Which you can.”
Rick’s jaw tightened, and he narrowed his eyes at Elliot.
Elliot noticed and shifted his position so he leaned away from Rick. “Rick,” he said, slower now. “Seriously. It’s no big deal.”
Rick took another step closer, his gloved hands balling into fists.
Elliot’s eyes flicked down and back up, tracking him. “Hey—”
“You ran your mouth,” Rick muttered.
Elliot lifted his hand. “About what? That you’re intense? That you’ve got a temper? Everyone knows that.”
Rick’s mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. “Really?”
“Look, if it pissed you off, fine. I’m sorry. I’ll fix it and I’ll tell them I was joking. I’ll—”
Rick cut him off. “You don’t get to fix it.”
Elliot’s laugh died completely. He stared at Rick, his eyes tracking every move Rick made. “You’re overreacting,” Elliot stated. “You know what your problem is? You think the world owes you something. You had your moment, Rick, and now it’s over. People move on, and you should too.”
Rick didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. “Say it again.”
Elliot swallowed. The bravado slipped, but he suddenly straightened and faced Rick. “You heard me.”
Rick’s hand moved to his waistband and brought the gun up in one motion. A compact handgun. Small enough to disappear, but big enough to do the job.
Elliot’s mouth opened, then closed again. “Rick…” He lifted both hands slowly, the phone still held in his right one. His voice dropped into that calm, placating tone people used on unpredictable animals. “Okay. Okay, man. Jesus. Put it down.”
Rick smiled. “You should’ve kept my name out of your mouth,” Rick said.
Elliot shook his head fast. “I didn’t mean it like—”
