"What are we doing?" Braden asked, grabbing a spatula and flipping slices of fish over. "First, eating. Second, you're helping me with these accounts. Third?" Dez took a long pull on the beer. "I'm going to make that bastard wish he'd never picked a fight with me. I'm tired of running. I'm tired of waiting for someone to save me. I'm fucking tired of being scared all the time. If he wants to make this a fight, then I'll fight – and for the first time in my life, I've got everything I need to make it a god damned world war."
