“How the hell should I know? I wouldn’t.”
“Oh, shut up,” said the cousin. It was impressive how murderous he could make his whiny words. Or maybe it was just the gun. Probably it was the gun.
“Mike, you shut up,” said Gabe, scowling. He closed the ammo box, the squeak loud again, and stood. “You don’t have anything smart to say anyway. You couldn’t figure any of this out yourself, so you had to follow me and use all the work me and Ian did.”
“Who cares? I got it in the end. You and him can go back to your car and leave. The box stays.”
Gabe didn’t move. Ian’s brain screamed for him to take off running, but he stayed where he was, not wanting to leave Gabe there. But he didn’t want to see Gabe shot, either, and he definitely didn’t want to take a bullet. Not like this.
“Gabe, let’s go.
