Ein went after him with a scoff. "What, you gonna kill the dealer?"
Dean's lips twisted into a humorless smirk. "Think you can stop me?"
"Are you willing to cross into the Byers' territory?" Ein inquired.
Dean paused midway into the driver's seat. "What?"
"Dealer's the barman at the Red Tail Hotel. Jefferson Byers' guy."
"Does Avery know?"
"No."
"Then there's no problem." Dean slid into the driver's seat, resuming with his impulsive plan.
Ein rolled his eyes and walked over to the passenger's seat. "Is killing your solution for everything? Just shoot first, deal with the consequences later?"
"I don't give a shit about losing another strike. If Avery wants to cross that line, then I'm crossing this line."
Dean's grip tightened on the steering wheel as he slammed his foot on the gas, the tires screeching as they peeled out of the parking lot. The car cut through the snow-covered streets, headed for the hotel.
