Cole knew it was a bad idea. The rational side of him was very, very aware of this fact; and yet he was still going through with it. For once he wasn't listening to voice of reason, he wasn't worrying, and he definitely wasn't thinking about the consequences. All he could think about was Aaron, and how he'd died and had to come back once a month knowing what would happen once the sun rose.
He was angrier than he'd ever been in his life, and he hated Trenton. He hated that arrogant, callous son of a bitch who thought he could get away with murder and keep living off his fucking endless supply of money and women.
Cole was ready to prove him wrong. He climbed the stairs to the penthouse level, acutely aware of the sheathed knife around his waist. He'd have to thank Shane again later.
He acknowledged Micah with a nod once he reached the penthouses, moving towards P4 with uncharacteristic hardness in his face. He noticed the gun but didn't say anything about it, not like he usually would have. "You want to knock?"