Ow ow ow ow goddamn ow.
That fucking lowlife was faster than he gave him credit for. Not on his feet, of course, but with his blade, and more importantly with his mouth. No matter how many times you catch a blade, it never gets familiar. Or pleasant. And sure, the freak fruit had patched him up fine, he should’ve stocked up, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. He was just glad he had Masa along to tell him which ones wouldn’t give him something worse than a knife wound. After the underhanded, sneaky bullshit Wren has been pulling lately, it was nice to know that he had at least one friend that could be relied on not to be fucking him over for his own motivations. I mean, he knew Ondrej was a slimy little shit, but Wren seemed reliable. Sad that the only person he knew that he’d be surprised to find stabbing him in the back was Winter.
Anyway, that was past now. Wren and Ondrej had both learned valuable information. But he was sure that he wouldn’t leave the shady ass casino of that shady ass Darkling without either a fight or a pledge. He had no problem with the idea of them joining up, he never expected to be able to trust them, but their subtlety had proven a good contras to his… not. But hopefully, it wouldn’t be tonight. He didn’t give a shit about the drugs, they weren’t killing anyone but junkies. That was natural selection as far as he was concerned. And he wasn’t willing to betray his word and his friends to run to Wolfe or Coyote about it just to kiss enough ass to climb up the Summer ladder. That’d come soon enough, and besides, it didn’t mean shit unless he earned it.
No, what he wanted was more basic. Wren said that that same lowlife Scum was coming by the E-string in the next couple days. He intended to have every possible resource waiting there for him. That bastard was going to be caught or die, and fuck whatever intel he might give up to Wolfe or The Clown. He was going to suffer. Red just had to make sure he could get the welcoming party ready without breaking his pledge…