"What can I do for you, brother?" Tony asks, sounding serious. I guess at this time of night and with how much time has passed, I guess this must look strange for him. Gathering the right words in my head, I take a bit of time-- enough time for Tony to call my name again, luring me back to the conversation.
"I don't know how much you follow sports..." I start, "Never." Tony interrupts, sounding as serious as always. I release a shuddering breath. "Good-- well, not good, but..."
"Out with it, Dalton. I heard about your success, and you know what I am, what I do." So f*****g serious, all the damn time. "I need evidence." It's as vaguely as I can put it.
"I'm going to need more information than that, brother," Tony snorts. My eyes flutter shut with despair. I just have to say it. "You have
