Dwayne raises his hands defensively, indicating no offense meant. Big kid. Young but not too young. He hopes like hell he's done growing, because goddamn, he's already done a lot of it. Dwayne would be worried if not for his wolvish edge, and...hell, no, he'd be a little worried anyway. He's used to being the biggest man in the room and it's a little off-putting to be outclassed by that much. The fact that he came here alone expecting his wallet to be his shield, though? Either the kid knows how to handle himself...or he's in way over his head.
"Lots of points for balls, kid. That'll come in handy," Dwayne says mildly, flicking his glance toward the buyer. Trying to project I've got this because the guy's bodyguards are getting restless and the flush of red annoyance creeping up under his shirt collar is not a good sign. "This is a private deal, though. Throwing money at a problem gets you the prize sometimes, but not every time. Still gotta follow the rules of business." The words taste sour in his mouth, the fact that he's buying and selling a twenty-year-old girl the same way he would a 17th century French antique end table, but if he flinches, he breaks the whole deal and very possibly gets them all killed. He can smell silver somewhere, and he knows damn well that this shithead knows that sometimes, a 'piece of merchandise' will suicide-rush rather than go quietly into the hands of another buyer. Somewhere, someone's got a silver knife or a clip of silver-core rounds, and it's not just Dwayne, because his are wax-sealed.
He's tired of this, but the end result will be worth it. He keeps telling himself that. More wolves to come home safe into the hands of a pack that will protect them, find them safe places, and one more broker taken permanently out of the game.
If they can pull this off. Mira glances at Josh, head still bowed so that it's a shrouded gaze, but Dwayne knows she's not faking her ire. Luckily, it's easy to pass off as a simple matter of not liking either potential new owner, and she simply shifts from foot to foot restlessly, eyes flicking between all the parties involved.
"This isn't the 'discrete' you promised me," the buyer snaps with a glare. He looks over Josh, clearly searching for signs of wire. Camera. Anything indicating a double-cross. Forward guard for an interception? Fuck. Dwayne hopes not. Feds wouldn't be this clumsy...neither would most competitors. And at least some of the others he knows of would have simply shot them all in the head and taken Mira by now. Now Dwayne is uneasy, too, and this is looking worse and worse. He's going to have to make a call soon- try to salvage, or bail. "I have other things to do today besides 'Baby's First Meet', so if you aren't going to get rid of him, I will."
no subject
"Lots of points for balls, kid. That'll come in handy," Dwayne says mildly, flicking his glance toward the buyer. Trying to project I've got this because the guy's bodyguards are getting restless and the flush of red annoyance creeping up under his shirt collar is not a good sign. "This is a private deal, though. Throwing money at a problem gets you the prize sometimes, but not every time. Still gotta follow the rules of business." The words taste sour in his mouth, the fact that he's buying and selling a twenty-year-old girl the same way he would a 17th century French antique end table, but if he flinches, he breaks the whole deal and very possibly gets them all killed. He can smell silver somewhere, and he knows damn well that this shithead knows that sometimes, a 'piece of merchandise' will suicide-rush rather than go quietly into the hands of another buyer. Somewhere, someone's got a silver knife or a clip of silver-core rounds, and it's not just Dwayne, because his are wax-sealed.
He's tired of this, but the end result will be worth it. He keeps telling himself that. More wolves to come home safe into the hands of a pack that will protect them, find them safe places, and one more broker taken permanently out of the game.
If they can pull this off. Mira glances at Josh, head still bowed so that it's a shrouded gaze, but Dwayne knows she's not faking her ire. Luckily, it's easy to pass off as a simple matter of not liking either potential new owner, and she simply shifts from foot to foot restlessly, eyes flicking between all the parties involved.
"This isn't the 'discrete' you promised me," the buyer snaps with a glare. He looks over Josh, clearly searching for signs of wire. Camera. Anything indicating a double-cross. Forward guard for an interception? Fuck. Dwayne hopes not. Feds wouldn't be this clumsy...neither would most competitors. And at least some of the others he knows of would have simply shot them all in the head and taken Mira by now. Now Dwayne is uneasy, too, and this is looking worse and worse. He's going to have to make a call soon- try to salvage, or bail. "I have other things to do today besides 'Baby's First Meet', so if you aren't going to get rid of him, I will."