Kant went after him with a scoff. "What, you gonna kill the dealer?"
Hunter's lips twisted into a humorless smirk. "Think you can stop me?"
"Are you willing to cross into the Everett's territory?" Kant inquired.
Hunter paused midway into the driver's seat. "What?"
"Dealer's the barman at the Red Tail Hotel. Jefferson Everett's guy."
"Does Jones know?"
"No."
"Then there's no problem." Hunter slid into the driver's seat, resuming with his impulsive plan.
Kant rolled his eyes and walked over to the passenger's seat. "Is killing your solution for everything? Just shoot first, deal with the consequences later?"
"I don't give a shit about losing another strike. If Jones wants to cross that line, then I'm crossing this line."
Hunter's grip tightened on the steering wheel as he slammed his foot on the gas, the tires screeching as they peeled out of the parking lot. The car cut through the snow-covered streets, headed for the hotel.
