The street outside the bar was blurry. The city didn't sleep, but Xavier wished it would, or that he could.
He leaned against the side of the building, a half-finished bottle in one hand, his shirt damp from the neck down with sweat and a splash of something stronger. His knees were unsteady. His eyes kept darting—looking for cops, ghosts, old enemies, maybe even Leonard.
But Leonard wasn't coming. Xavier let out a bitter laugh and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"You really left me hanging, huh?" He mumbled it into the dark, his words slurring on the edge of a cry and a curse.
He had told Leonard everything. All the dirt on Ryan, every scheme he'd sniffed out, he thought it would make a difference, buy him some loyalty. Maybe even protection, but Leonard had vanished.
No texts, no call, no drop-off envelope of hush cash. Nothing.
"Piece of shit," Xavier muttered.
And now he was exposed. He knew he would die soon, for real this time.
