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The silence was nauseating. Jase and Sam sat in the living room watching the clock. It was coming up to nine. A thick haze of smoke floated between them, the only sounds coming from the hissing of cigarettes and Jase's incessant foot-tapping. Sam had never seen him nervous, it leaked over into him.

"Does Madison know she's going with Mitch tonight?" Sam asked. Jase nodded, taking a long drag on his third cigarette in the past hour.

"I told her to pack some clothes."

Sam bobbed his head. He had no words of reassurance to offer and Ramon's order still camped in the back of his mind. His gut twisted with anxiety.

"Are you okay?" he asked, wincing internally as the words left his mouth.

Jase looked at him through his lashes. Part of him wanted to clock Sam around the side of his head for such a stupid question. But then, he wasn't in the best mood with Sam after overhearing what Ramon had instructed him to do and Sam not telling him. To Jase, that meant he was considering it and it only added salt to all his recent wounds to know Sam was willing to turn his back as well.

"Remember when we first got involved in all this stuff, and Benny was going to have you bumped off because of how you were with Janine, and I stepped in and vouched for you?" he asked. Sam's brows furrowed, confused.

"Of course I remember. I thought he was going to go for you next just for speaking up on my behalf."

Jase stared at Sam, his right-hand man in the business for four years and best friend for ten. He trusted Sam with his life, had trusted Sam with his life on many occasions during jobs. He'd never done Jase wrong. Even when he'd started making choices that didn't necessarily benefit the house, Sam had stuck by him for the most part. Until he didn't. Though, Jase understood his reasonings.

"What made you think of that?" Sam asked. Jase shrugged, shaking his head.

"You're probably the only one that knows how not okay I am." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It wasn't going to last forever. We all need to know when to call it a day."

Sam's palms were sticky with sweat at the thought of all the possible outcomes of the evening. He didn't want to have to choose between Jase, and his and Janine's future, which was the black and white of it. Jase pulled the tin box out from under the armchair, setting it on the coffee table.

"You've got your gun, haven't you?" he asked. Sam nodded, patting his waist where his Glock 29 was tucked. Jase unlocked the box, took out his weapon, and slotted in the magazine. He pulled the slider back and clicked the safety on before lifting his shirt and tucking it into his jeans.

"Where's the other one?" Sam asked.

"In my car," Jase replied, closing and locking the tin again, putting it back.

"Do you think it'll come to that?" Sam asked, jerking his chin at the outline of the gun.

"Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it."

The minutes ticked past, the tension was suffocating. Neither of them could recall any other situation that had aroused this much dread in their whole careers. They'd handled large amounts, money, girls, guns, and drugs, and not once had they been this disquieted.

At twenty-five past, there was a knock on the door. Jase stood up to answer, his grip tightening on the handle when Adam looked up and smiled at him.

"Surprised you let this go on for as long as it did, shame the damage has already been done," he jeered. Jase didn't blink, he'd seen this coming. He stepped to the side, inviting them in. Sam glared at Adam, not able to keep the same poker face as Jase. Not that Adam was fazed, he felt untouchable with Mitch by his side because Jase had already given in and Adam had chosen the winning team.

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