Ian refused to quail beneath Sultis’s unblinking black gaze, or tremble when their fingers brushed as he passed over the phone. The loss only mattered in that it cut him off from Lucas. They’d purchased it specifically to be disposable and untraceable. They would simply replace it when they were reunited again.
“Your ankle seems to be improved,” Sultis commented.
“Yes, it’s doing much better, no thanks to you.”
“You’re the one who ran.”
“Because I’m the one who got shot at.”
“Because you ran.” Sultis shook his head. “A circular argument, I’m afraid. Not really worth our time.”
Ian retreated a step when Sultis entered far enough to shut the door behind him. Though he hadn’t seen the man since California, he looked much the same. The corduroy coat had been swapped with a soft black lea
