Never Gonna Happen - Cynthia Eden Page 0,75

agents off me! I’m not disappearing! I’m not having some X-Files shit up in here!”

Had that guy seriously just made a flashback reference to—

“I make no promises.” Winston tapped his chin. “You know what? Maybe I should go talk to your buddy. What was his name? Oh, yeah, Martin. Martin—”

“Marty don’t get a deal! I get the deal! I mean, Marty was the one who fired the shot at Shark Gaming and Design. He was also the one who fired at the woman when she was at the theater. I didn’t shoot at anyone. You hear me? I never shot at anyone.”

Except Dwight had tried to sneak into the bedroom at the safe house and fire a gun at the bed. The only reason you didn’t fire is because Dex snapped your wrist. A wrist that had already been wrapped up and was currently being cradled on the guy’s lap.

“Listen!” Dwight exploded. “If you’re making deals, you deal with the guy who didn’t shoot!”

And to think, Dwight had been such a confident bastard when he’d been saying, “Boom” over and over again.

Not so confident when he was locked up. Not so confident when he feared he was about to be sent into some secret government prison.

Winston waved his hand. “Why was the hit taken at Shark Gaming and Design?”

“We just got the order that we’d get ten grand if we winged one of the owners. Again, wing him. Not kill him.”

“Yeah, look, you put a bomb at the last location.” Winston’s voice dripped sarcasm as he continued, “That screams kill to me—”

“It was a small bomb! Shit! It was more of a distraction than anything else—”

The door opened behind Sebastian. He tensed, figuring another cop had come in the room. “Look, I’ve got permission to be in here—”

“Sure, but knowing you, I figure you’d be watching the interrogation whether you had permission or not,” a familiar voice responded.

He fired a fast glance over his shoulder at Antony.

Antony twisted his lips into the rough semblance of a grin. “I kinda thought you’d be in the interrogation.”

“Tried to be. Winston wouldn’t let me.” He looked back at the interrogation room. “Things are getting interesting.”

Antony moved to his side. They both focused back on the scene.

“You’re telling me that you never intended for anyone to get hurt?” Winston shook his head. “Try that line on someone who hasn’t seen your rap sheet. You don’t care who you hurt. You sell your services to any interested party, and you stopped asking questions long ago.” Once more, he made his way for the door. “I think we’re done.”

“You’re right! I do sell my services—and that’s what happened this time!”

Now we’re getting to the man pulling the strings.

Winston slanted a glance back at Dwight. “I’m thinking the government agents would be more interested in your employer than in you.”

Dwight’s shoulders sagged. “That’s gonna be a problem.”

“I don’t like problems. I’m more of a solution man.” Winston returned to the table. He pulled out his chair. Spun it around. Straddled it. “Tell me who hired you.”

“I would…if I knew.”

Winston waited.

And waited.

“Jesus, I hate the sweat-it-out technique,” Antony muttered. “Makes me nervous as hell. By the way, what the hell happened to your face?”

“It’s a cut above my eye. Not my face. My moneymaker is just fine.”

Antony grunted.

“It was all online!” Dwight suddenly cried out.

“You were hired online?”

“That’s how that stuff goes down these days, man. Dark Web style.” Dwight wiggled his brows.

“Am I supposed to believe this jerk knows anything about operating on the Dark Web?” Antony wondered. “Because I don’t. He’s more like the hammer you use to bust open a window. Lots of force, but very little finesse.”

Yes, he was. But maybe one of the guys he’d been working with had the tech skills to find work online.

“Marty uses the Dark Web, all right?” Dwight said, as if on cue. “He finds the jobs, and when he needs extra help, he comes to me. See, like I told you—Marty is the one you need to send to the agents, not me.” He smiled. Some of his confidence seemed to return. Obviously, Dwight was used to making deals and throwing others under the bus. That was why his rap sheet was so long…and his prison stays had been so short.

“This just all got out of hand,” Dwight explained.

Boom. Sebastian could still hear that bastard taunting him. Out of hand, my ass.

Dwight’s face hardened, as if a new thought had just hit him. A thought he didn’t