“You have trust issues,” Connath mumbled.
“You came within an inch of putting a fifty caliber in his head.” Michael pointed at me.
“Was closer than that,” Connath said. “I don’t know how he walked away. Never have missed that shot. I mean, I was only ninety feet away. Jeez.”
Yeah. All those bullets were on their path before I hit the floor. Sobering thought.
“You trying to make friendly?” Michael rasped.
“I said sorry.”
I was actually getting to like the jerk. Except for the part about him being a remorseless murderer. There was a good reason we were packing and he wasn't.