What a fucking waste of a good squealer. His skin was pale blue, blood pooling from his mouth. He made gurgling sounds, choking. Fuck, I must have nicked an organ. Rookie fucking mistake. The boys would never let me live this down. “Sorry, man,” I told him. “Actually didn’t mean to kill you. I mean, we would have eventually, but this was a little premature. My bad.” I tossed his body down, pulled out my phone, and texted our clean-up crew. Blood coated my hands and I cringed, wiping them on my shirt.
