“This isn’t exactly your neck of the woods.”
“The same is true for you,” Brody points out. “And yet here you are.”
“I have business here,” I reply. “Actual business, as opposed to your business, which seems to revolve mostly around annoying the fuck out of me.”
“This is our territory,” Brody bites.
I frown. “Our territory?”
“Kinahan territory,” he clarifies. “This is our turf.”
“Our,” I repeat again in amusement. “Are these boys alright with you bandying about the Kinahan name like that? I thought you were only leasing it.”
He flinches at the obvious jab. I notice his hand twitch towards his jean pocket.
So that’s where he’s hiding his little security blanket.
Good to know.
“You may be able to throw your weight around with Tweedledee and Tweedle-Dipshit,” I add, gesturing to each of the two stooges flanking him. “But not with me. The only reason the Kinahans even tolerate you is because Daddy dearest has them in his pocket.”
“You fucking ass—”
His hand goes straight for his gun, but I anticipate the move and I speak before he can even pull it out.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I say with a knowing nod. “Reach for your gun. You don’t know the first thing about the life, do you?”
He freezes. His hand twitches slightly before falling back to his side.
Like I said—so fucking easy.
“In my world,” I tell him, emphasizing the word ‘my,’ “we like to get our hands dirty.”
“You think I’m afraid of you?” Brody demands.
“You did show up with back-up.”
“They’re not back-up,” he pouts like a petulant child.
“So the three of you weren’t planning on beating me to a pulp and leaving me by the roadside?”
I can see the wheels in his thick skull turning.
“That wouldn’t be a fair fight,” he says after a moment.
I smirk. “I agree.”
Pause for dramatic effect.
Wait for it…
Wait for it…
“You should have brought at least two more guys.”
It takes the idiot a minute to figure out that I’ve just insulted him and his men.
Again.