The man grunted a laugh and then turned to his huge companion. “Frigerator, this son o’ bitch must just hate being alive!” he said, making the fat one laugh.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but I got places to go …” Tyler took two steps to his right in an attempt to walk around the men.

The smaller man shot out his hand, which now held an open six-inch switchblade. “My problem is, you motherfucker, that you’re working my turf.” He waved the knife in front of him. “Tell me one reason why I shouldn’t cut you up right here and fuckin’ now.”

Tyler moved his hand to his jacket pocket. The knife shot up to his face at eye level and hovered less than inches away. “Move again and you’re finished!” the knife-holder snapped, cuting an X in the air so close to his face that Tyler felt a breeze from the blade. “Finished!”

Tyler’s hand froze outside his pocket. He glanced over to the huge enforcer, who now pointed what he recognized as a Glock 25 at the center of his chest.

Focus, Tyler thought. He smiled calmly. He gently patted his outside pocket. “The one reason you asked for? It’s in here.”

The smaller man pulled back his knife a few inches from Tyler’s face. His shiny teeth flashed in a malicious grin. “You better not be shitting me, or I promise you … I’m going to fuck you up. Then I’m going find your bitch and do her the same,” he snorted. “Then again, two to one, this cocksucker is someone else’s bitch. Aren’t you, queer boy?”

Tyler didn’t answer. Rock steady, he languidly slipped his hand in his pocket and circled his fingers around the wad of bills. He eased the hand back out of his pocket and then turned it over to show the dealers.

The dealer’s eyes lit up at the thick wad of hundred-dollar bills. “Toss it here!”

Tyler threw him the clipped bills. The dealer caught it with his free hand. The switchblade retracted as he slipped the handle back into his jeans. Then he began to flip through the stack of money.

“Can I go now?” Tyler asked.

The dealer kept his eyes on the counting. “I won’t ever see you in Portland again, huh?” he grunted.

Tyler nodded. “Probably wouldn’t be wise.”

“Maybe the stupidest move of your shitty little life.” The dealer said without taking his eyes off the money. “Now get the fuck out of here!”

Tyler stepped a few feet to his right. But without looking, he knew the gun was still trained on him.

Focus.

“Know what?” the dealer said. “My gut tells me this asshole doesn’t listen too good. Frigerator, maybe he would get the message better with a couple rounds in his chest.”