Carver just stared; not expecting the other to turn tail and rush off. Hm. What a fuckin coward. Still, even as he thought this, Carver knew he had run from things himself. Not out of a sense of fear, but self-preservation. As much of a waste of space as he was, he hadn’t thought of dying in a while.
Glancing down to his jacket sleeve, a low noise of frustration clicked out between clenched teeth. Shit. He’d need to sew it, if he even had any needles or thread back at that place. Looking up, Carver ensured that the other man wasn’t just trying to play at something, before he stepped back and turned, making his way back towards ‘home’.
Once he was far enough, he stopped. There was no need to run anymore. Huffing, he looked around to see if anyone else was near, but thankfully, that wasn’t the case. Giving a content nod, the informant swiped out his cell phone from within his other coat pocket and held it in front of his face as he went through a few menus.
“Now.. Where did you live again... Carver.”
Of course the informant had information on this man. It wasn’t just mere coincidence that they happened to cross paths. There’d be no need to provoke him, either, if the informant didn’t have some sort of plan.
“Ahh.. Right.”
Smiling once again, he then put the cell on standby before pushing it back into his pocket; If he hurried, he could probably get there before Carver did.
