Death on Two Legs // Shyan

3. Coffee's For Closers

His phone buzzed in the blue glow of the night, casting it's white light on the sheets. Shane groaned as he rolled over to pick it up.
A blocked number was calling. A stupid excitement rose up to the man's throat as he answered, hoping for it to be Ryan.
It most certainly wasn't.
"Mr. McClintock."
That voice drew chills down Shane's spine- he knew it too well from the most terrible part of his past. A cold, creaky voice of an older man.
"Doctor." He spit the title out with despise. This shouldn't have been possible, how did this man have his private number? They went far back, even further than Shane did with Ryan. He felt a twist in his gut as the memories flooded his mind, making his old scars ache. Literally.
"What do you want?" He wasn't afraid, hell no, more like extremely pissed off.
The caller was Dr. Jesse Fear.
"I want you to decline whatever sum of money your client offered for the assassination of Tinsley. And I want you to do it tonight, before the entire world knows who Banjo McClintock really is."
Shane swallowed hard. He hadn't expected this- not at all. And Dr. Fear went straight to the point too, no small talk or anything. Classic.
"Why? You want him?" Shane scoffed, knowing full well that he should be taking the threats more seriously. He had made the mistake of underestimating the man many times in the past, and it always lead to chaos.
"Go and fucking get him, douchewad, let's see wich of us gets to him the fastest."
The line went silent for a second, Shane almost tought that Fear had ended the call. Then there was a dry, very fake, grumbling bit of laughter. The air in the room had began to feel heavy, suffocating almost, like on a mountaintop. Shane swallowed the knot in his throat as soon as he began to notice it forming,
"You haven't changed a bit it seems, Banjo. Still a stupid boy with a fast tongue for insults."
Shane knew he should be scared, he should be agreeing to everything Fear told him to do if he valued his life, and that annoyed him so unbelievably much. Frankly, he didn't really value his life at all, and his instincts seemed to be like the nagging voice of his mother echoing in the back of his skull. Easy to ignore.
"Well, it's been fun chatting with ya, but I've got an early morning tomorrow, so you know, bye."
And he cut the call faster than the doctor could threaten him any further.
God, this was the last thing he needed at that point.
Re-uniting with his old pal Ryan and getting a call from his former fuckwad of a boss on the same day? He felt like a pawn in the chess game of Satan himself. Something big was coming, he could feel it in the heavy air as he laid his head back on the pillow, staring up to the white ceiling above.
His life, his career, it was all on the edge of a knife now. But it wouldn't change a thing if he called his client and declined the hit. Actually, it would just swap Fear's place with his client's, and Shane would probably get murdered by some mafia guys on his way to the store the next day or something.
The choice was simple;
Either killing Tinsley himself, getting a shit ton of money from his client, possibly causing Fear to expose his identity and landing him to jail,
Or leaving Tinsley alone, getting himself killed by mobsters.
Easy choice, actually.
He'd kill Tinsley, because if there was one thing Shane Madej actually took seriously, it was his job.

The next morning was oddly numbing.
He was rubbing the bridge of his nose, the bittersweet dried cut on it rimmed with a yellowing brown bruise.
His coffee was cold, it tasted like bitter piss.
"Come on Ryan, just tell me. What did he threaten you with?"
The shorter man's face was buried deep in his hands as he sat in the coffee shop table, right across from Shane.

Ryan didn't want to be there, really.
Shane had called the meeting.
The morning after Fear had called him, of course he realized Ryan would have recieved a similar call as well. It was a simple puzzle to put together still, even though it wouldn't stay that way for much longer. Complications were gathering in the horizon like dark storm clouds.
And Ryan didn't want to meet at all at first, he actually tought the caller had been one of Shane's goons at first, trying to scare him away from Tinsley.
It took forty minutes of explaining for Ryan to even consider getting a coffee.
And now, there they were, in the middle of the rush hour, two hitmen sipping some expensive espresso with sour looks painted on their tired, worried faces.

"He just... he said he'd make sure my empire would burn again... and he... he knew my real name."
Ryan swallowed, sinking deeper into a bundle, covering his entire face with his hands. How did it get to this? Coffee with Shane Madej, the man he despised the most? This must have been the lowest low Ryan had ever reached, he tought.
"How do you even know him? I mean, doctor Fear?! Who's even named that?!" The short man laughed in disbelief, rising his eyebrows from behind his fingers, desperation in his paniced and dry laughter.
"It's a long story, let's not go there now." Shane's voice was rarely like that, so... serious. So Ryan let it go.
"But anyway, I think we need to kill him." He continued, voice entirely too loud taken how they were in a public place swarming with people. Ryan sushed him with a murderous glare.
"Have you lost your mind?! What the hell Shane, don't ever talk like that in public!"
"Chill out dude, you'll pop a vein in your head at this rate."
There it was again, the lazy smile and sly look in his eyes. Classic Shane, making it hard for Ryan not to punch him again.
"Fuck you." The shorter man huffed.
It was a cold morning, Ryan was bundled in a winter jacket and a big scarf, actually looking quite adorable. Shane was still only in his usual jean jacket, he pretended to be fine though he was actually freezing.
"Anyway, you seem like the kind of guy who'd want to make it personal. You know, vandettas. You've got big hands. Good for squeezing the life out of someone, I suppose."
Ryan said dryly.
"Oh, they're good at more than that, baby."
Shane had a stupid sense of humor, Ryan assumed that he was joking, yet oddly felt a blush rise on his cheeks. He had always done that, teasing, flirting, just to get on Ryan's nerves.
"Don't fucking call me that!" He murmured, face suddenly lowered back into his palms so Shane wouldn't see the deepening red on his face.
Little did he know, this time the giant of a man wasn't only being annoying. He was showing interest in that stupid, very Shane kind of way.
"So what do we do?"
"Huh?"
"About Fear." Ryan sighed.
"I don't know."
It was almost like admitting defeat for Shane, showing that he was unsure in front of Ryan like that. He knew what they had to do, but how they would do it was a question too big for him to figure out after barely four hours of sleep.
His pride was like a brick wall topped with barbed wire.