Winn blinked. That was his first reaction. The second was a chuckle.
"My life," Winn said, dragging a hand down his face, "is officially a tragic fucking soap opera."
Winn gestured vaguely toward the car blocking the road. "Get your fucking car out of my way or I am going to knock you and that shit off the street. I don't care who you claim to be."
Tim didn't budge.
He stepped closer instead, and Reese stepped between them.
"What do you think is going to happen to you if you kill him?" Tim asked. "You think you can walk into Tom's house, shoot him, and go home?"
Winn tilted his head, that eerie calm settling over him. "I don't give a fuck."
"Prison," Tim snapped. "Life. Maybe execution."
"I don't see how that is any of your business, Tim Kane. I won't say it again, get the fuck out of my way," Winn shouted. His hand hovered near his holster.
