CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“We gotta get to the police.” Leslie pulled on Max’s arm but he didn’t move. “Max.”
“We can’t leave now. I need this motherfucker to tell me who hired his ass.” He snatched his g*n out his pants and took off through the hall.
“Oh god.” Leslie waited at the bedroom door.
“Hands up,” Max shouted from the living room. “Now!”
“Okay, man!” the man screamed. “Just calm down.”
“Leslie,” Max called for her. “Leslie, get out here!”
With her newfound thirst for excitement, she bolted to the living room.
O’Hara stood in the middle of the room in his security outfit, huffing and puffing.
“What the hell you doing here, man?” Max asked.
“Me?” O’Hara leaned back. “I live here. Why are you here?”
Max squinted. “Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am.”
“Oh yeah.” O’Hara swal
