Reynolds took a long drag of his cigarette as he saw the headlights. Dutch was here, mad as hell, and probably armed. Didn't matter. Fate had a way of bringing things full circle. Their meeting here, now, had a certain air of melodrama about it.
He flicked the still lit butt into the weeds, and pulled back the hammer of his three-fifty-seven magnum. If this was his destiny, so be it.
I love Reynolds!
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