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Summary
“Well, well Winters.” an annoyingly familiar voice chuckled, “I never thought of you to be one to flee. I was expecting more of a fight.”
“Heisenberg.” Ethan growled. The man stood above him, the other end of the lasso in his hand. The shade of his hat and his tinted glasses obscured his face, though it did nothing to hide his wide grin of satisfaction. He pulled on the lasso, jerking Ethan and making him grunt. “You caught me at a bad time. I’ve been going through hell y’know. I don’t even have my gun on me.”
Heisenberg laughed, puffing his cigar as he planted his boot down onto Ethan’s chest. The blonde let out a groan, his legs kicking out uselessly. “Lucky me I suppose.”