TWENTY-FOUR - JAMESON #3
“Give me a fucking break.” I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest. This shit was comical at best.
“Oh, something is going to break, but I’m thinking more along the lines of legs and a few necks if I don’t get my boat and its contents back. So do whatever you have to do to make that happen, but make it quick. Your time is running out.”
“The only thing I ever messed with of yours was that feeder boat that I sunk because I found one of my men with a bullet in his forehead. Unlike me, you got your boat back.”
“Sounds like you need men with sharper skills.”
Asshole. “Sounds like you need better tracking equipment.”
He smirked. At least one of us finds this funny. “See, that’s my problem. My missing boat was tracked, and it was last pinged on radar less than a hundred feet upstream from your dock.”
“Sounds like a personal problem.”
“This isn’t a game you want to play with me. Elliott tried that, and look where it landed him.”
“Hmm. I always knew it was you.” Though hearing his confession out loud did not give me quite the relief I’d hoped it would. It only made the void in the pit of my stomach even deeper.
He smiled and shook his head. “Just because he got what he had coming to him doesn’t mean I’m the one who did it.
He built an enemy list a mile long. But that’s what happens when you try to play the hero in a villain’s world.
” He paused to sip his drink. I should’ve poisoned him when I had the chance.
“Maybe you’re not as smart as you’ve come across, so I’ll educate you.
You don’t know a fucking thing about how any of this works.
Now you’ve wasted the last year of your life trying to figure out how to take me down, and this entire time, the real killer is still out there, probably walking around your own goddamned casino floor.
” He reached his arm under his coat and pulled out a Glock.
He set it on the table and slid it over to me.
“If you believe so deeply in your soft heart that I’m the one who killed Elliott, now’s your chance.
” He waved his hand over the gun like it was a prize on The Price is Right. “Take it. Pull the trigger.”
My hands shook in my lap as my thoughts raced at a million miles per hour.
This was it. The singular moment I’d waited for and lost what had felt like years of sleep and life over. He was dropping the weapon in my hand, giving me this opportunity practically wrapped up and tied with a bow.
I wondered where Roman was hiding, what was running through his mind right now, if he thought I’d snap up this opportunity before it was too late. I had no doubt he wanted to kill him more than I did at the moment.
Knowing Ivan, he’d probably shit his pants by now.
“I’d rather slit your throat open with a dull butter knife from my own kitchen and watch the life bleed out of you all over this white tablecloth.”
He leaned forward. “Then fucking do it, Jameson,” he challenged.
I stared down at the loaded gun, heavily contemplating if killing him right here and now was worth the risk.
“Why haven’t you killed me yet? You have just as many resources as me, do you not?
But you can’t do it, can you? Because now, you’re not so sure. ”
I locked eyes with him, staring into pure, soulless evil. “I want you and your men to back off. Stay off of my property.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He grabbed his gun off the table, casually spinning it around his finger, causing me to flinch.
All he had to do was turn it on me and I’d be toast. “Your dad should have left you where he found you. Again, he just had to be a hero.” He pushed himself away from the table as though he was about to leave.
“Excuse me? What the fuck does that mean?” I could feel my blood practically drain from my entire being.
He smirked. “You really don’t know, do you? You should have stuck to your dreams and gone with academics. Stay in your lane, Jameson. This is much bigger than you’re equipped to handle.”
I knew exactly what he was talking about. My history wasn’t something I thought had been made public information.
“How dare you come here into my casino and spew out meaningless bullshit and lies.”
“Lies? You need to get your head out of your ass. I’d tell you to ask Elliott, but—”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I shouted as I stood up, pointing toward the front door. “You fucking piece of shit. Just get the fuck out. We’re done here.”
Not my brightest moment, but I’d had enough of his shit. It was time for him to go.
Background chatter around us ceased. All eyes were on us now. Fuck. Not again.
“If you’re going to be in this line of work,” he drawled in a calm and even tone, “you should probably control your raging hormones.” An evil grin spread across his face.
“You’ll figure it out one day…or maybe you won’t.
I don’t give a shit either way.” He winked as he stood.
“I’ll see you…Saturday, is it? I’ll have to check my invite. ”
“Fuck you.”
I glared at him as he buttoned up his sport coat without saying another word and walked away.