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FORTY THREE

Tapping my finger and shaking my leg, just sitting on a cargo box with Solomon by my side guarding me as usual. I hate to admit I don't mind the company. I mean, he usually doesn't talk much.

Mordecai has been down there at most ten minutes, well, maybe more. I don't know; I don't have a watch to tell what fucking time it is. But when I asked Solomon, he told me it had been twelve minutes.

I watch angrily at Eddie yelling at his men to go down there. Then I shift my eyes at Don, who instantly looks my way. I gave him the glare and snob at him, looking the other way.

"Jerk," I mutter.

Solomon heard me, but I wasn't quiet about it. Don is a jerk. A big-fat-traitor jerk!

"You should have let Don explain," Solomon says, catching my attention.

I snort, then say venomously, "And why should I?"

"Although we work for Eddie, he only did it because he has something Don wants."

I shift my body to look up at him with curious brows on my face. "Something Don wants? What is it?"

"Don has to tell yo
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