deadly tone.
Without taking his eyes off Jackson, Edgar spat to Hallie, “Lady, I don’t have no gun. If I did, he’d already be dead.”
“Back off, Nesbitt—” the calm had slipped several degrees after Edgar addressed Hallie “—unless you want to be hauled out of here in handcuffs. Or better yet, a body bag.”
Nesbitt poked Jackson in the chest, his features twisted. “Do you think I care what you do to me?”
Jackson grabbed his hand so hard, he heard Nesbitt’s knuckles crack.
Pain or not, it didn’t stop his mouth. “My sister’s dead and it’s all your fault.”
Before Jackson could respond, Donnie Petty, Elan’s head of security, tapped Nesbitt on the shoulder. “Your moment in the sun’s over, buddy. You’re coming with me.”
Within seconds, the volatile situation had been de-fused. What Hallie had mistaken for a weapon had been a pipe. Still, one never knew.
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