Matt watched the fellow’s every movement, as if he were trying to read the situation– read the fellow’s intentions. To no avail, however, considering how poor Matt’s people skills were. He couldn’t tell if the man was being genuine of if this was a trap.
Brushing that slightly offensive moment aside, the young cyberpunk shook his head.
Ugh. Smashingly, though? Matt had never used that word in his life. It was pretty cringy to hear it from him.
“–And just what makes you think I’d trust you?” The teenager hissed through his teeth.
“I’m not an idiot, you know. I’m not going to meet an enemy alone.” He huffed, leaning back in his computer chair and crossing his arms, his black nails tapping anxiously against his black leather jacket.
“I may not be on the prospering side, but I don’t have a death wish, you know.”
“Yeah, I get it,” the boss says, holding his hands up in surrender. “We don’t exactly go way back. I know I’ve done some shit to you, and you’ve done some shit to me. But last time I saw you, you offered me something to let you go, and I did. I think- at least I think that puts us on slightly better footing. Slightly.”
He rubs the side of his neck, and back up over his hair. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. And I don’t want to sit here patronizing you about maturity and forgiving your enemies blah blah- cause I don’t really believe that shit myself. But I don’t want to be on the wrong side of the bridge when I burn it.”
“So here’s my offer,” he leans in. “As a show of good faith, you can pick the place we meet. You can go there first with your boys, scope it out, make sure it’s safe, it’s not bugged, and nobody’s hiding there to get you. When you’re satisfied, I’ll roll up, and we can sit down for five fucking minutes and talk about getting Killbane’s collar off you throat.”
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