“Chainsaw.”

“Whatever. It’s bullshit.”

I eased to the side, getting my nose away from his mouth. “And the witness? He’s still alive, last I heard.”

“Some guy you paid off.”

“The pictures?”

“Photoshopped.”

“It was almost thirty years ago.”

“So?”

I shook my head. The problem with stupid people is you can’t reason with them. Waste of my time, while my meal was getting cold and Elena was spending our romantic dinner alone and wondering where I was.

Screw this.

I surveyed the dark service lane. There was never a convenient Dumpster when you needed one. I eyed the garbage cans, eyed Cain, sizing him up…

“So when do we fight?” he asked.

“What?”

“You know. Go mano a mano. Fight to the death. Your death, of course. I’m looking forward to enjoying the spoils.” His tongue slid between his teeth. “Mmm. I gotta thing for blondes with tight little asses, and your girl is fine. Bet she’ll fix up real nice.”

“Fix up?”

“You know. Get some makeup on. Get rid of that ponytail. Trade the jeans for a nice miniskirt to show off those long legs. You gotta keep after chicks about things like that or they get comfortable, let it slide. Not that she isn’t damned sweet right now, but with a little extra effort, she’d be really hot.”

I shook my head.

“What?” he said. “You’ve never tried?”

“Why would I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. Another waste of time. “So you think if you kill me, you get Elena?”

“Sure, why not?”

“If it didn’t require my death, I’d be tempted to go along with it, just to watch you tell her that.”

“Whatever.” He rolled on his heels. “Let’s get this over with. I’m hoping you brought your chainsaw, ’cause otherwise this fight isn’t going to be nearly as much fun as I was hoping, with your fucked-up arm and all.”