ERIC'S POV
I check my watch for the umpteenth time since my jet landed on a mountain in Toronto.
It's been a week since that bastard called.
I tap my foot impatiently on the ground and glance down below, just in time to see my old Toyota—stolen by Dante—pull through the trees. The mountain isn’t high enough to block my view, so I can clearly see how deplorable the car looks.
There are bullet holes in the body, and the back window is busted.
He’s alone. Or at least, it seems that way.
He gets out of the car and looks up. When he sees me, he smirks like an i***t and waves.
“Long time no see,” he shouts.
Within ten to fifteen minutes, he’s planting his feet on top of the mountain.
I stare at him through my sunglasses. Same old, stupid, ever-so-ridiculous Dante. He just looks even mor
