No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

To his right, Lars took a diligent firing stance with the
Beretta Cougar, just the way Ashley had once taught him. Two
knuckled hands, thumbs high, index finger curling around the
trigger. But Ashley knew he wouldn’t fire. Not without
permission. He was waiting, oh-so-obediently, for a cue to
execute Ed, which could come in many forms — including a
baseball reference.
A drop of sweat hit the floor.
“I promise we won’t hurt you,” Ashley restated. “You
have my word.”
“Eddie, please.” Sandi’s voice softened. “You’re drunk.
Just put it down, and I’ll explain everything.”
But to his credit, he didn’t give in. He stood firm, not even
acknowledging Lars’s gun, staring back at Ashley, only
Ashley, like he was the only person in the world. Rock-hard
eyes, daring him to do it. The lug wrench rattled with
adrenaline. When he finally spoke, it was a low growl: “I
knew I hated you.”
“Really?” Ashley said. “I liked you.”
“The moment I first met you tonight, when I shook your
hand, I just … I somehow knew.” The old animal doctor
smiled a strange, sad smile. “I caught a flash, I think, of
exactly who you are. Behind the circle time, behind the bad
jokes and the card games. You’re the sum of every trait I’ve
ever hated in a human being. You’re smug, you’re irritating,
you talk too much, you’re not half as clever as you think you
are, and under it all? You’re pure evil.”
And you’re batting a thousand, Ashley almost said.
But then Ed sighed, and something broke behind his eyes,
like he was finally recognizing the futility of this little
standoff. He raised both hands and opened his right in
grudging surrender. The lug wrench dropped and banged off
the tile floor. The echo rang in the air, and Ashley grinned.
Lars lowered his Beretta.