“Now, now. Remember who’s the one asking questions here,” he says, a smug look on his face. “Family?”
“Kiss my ass,” I say. “You want more answers then you have to give some as well.”
“I don’t think I like your tone, Justin.” The man’s own tone is deadly quiet. I begin to suspect he is more deadly then the men with guns standing outside the door.
“Look, I don’t want anyone else involved, especially family. I’ll talk, but I have my limits.” I don’t trust him one bit, but I can’t afford to have him toss me out, or worse yet call the cops.