"No, no, I don't want to be alone." Which was probably the most raw, vulnerable thing Conrad had said in a while. So much for that tough guy act.
He tilted the bottle back, taking a swallow of his whiskey. Pirates and malls. That sounded infinitely better than being shot by an assassin out of the blue. Conrad could only hope that that's where they were: somewhere nice.
"And no, no more TV." The Brit even managed a smile over that. Thank god he had an understanding neighbor. Cranking the television up like that back in London would have earned Conrad a fat lip or a black eye from whoever lived next to him. He leaned in, pouring just a little more whiskey into the other man's glass. "Thank you, Mike."