Phoenix slammed back in his chair, blood spurting from the hole in his throat. His eyes were wide with surprise, but they dulled quickly as the bullet did its work.
At point blank range, Leon couldn’t have missed. But it wasn’t the accuracy that stunned Thomas, it was the speed. Leon’s reflexes were sharp—and quick enough to be a killer. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would have even had a chance if Leon had turned on him instead of Phoenix.
“I guess you didn’t want to go to Mexico after all?”
Leon hadn’t moved. He stared at the dead body and shook his head, his cheeks oddly pale. “Not with the likes of him, anyway.” He swallowed. “He’s really dead, isn’t he?”