Wes could admit to being a stubborn moron when he'd first started at the Fraternity. Sloan had called him a caged lion and boy, had he ever been ready to break out. He'd been impatient, wanting to learn everything as quickly as possible. Knowing that his loser father wasn't actually a loser after all helped to movitate him. That, and the chance to take out his father's killer. Or so he'd thought at the time. His anger and arrogance had blinded him. If only he'd paid more attention.
"I miss him too. I never got his name. Isn't that shit? He was the only one who was nice to me and I killed him without knowing his real name. Using the rats wasn't just about being clever. It felt like ...like I got to make up for that somehow. Though I'm sure he'd rather be alive, drinking vodka and helping me out of those damn ice baths."
He'd made that mistake twice now. Shooting the wrong man. It was the reason he was so hesitant to carry his gun around with him, even after it had showed up in his room.
"I don't think the Sloan I saw in New York City was the real Sloan. I know that's weird to hear but it was more like the version of him that I was the most scared of?" It sounded pathetic when he said it like that but it was the only thing that made sense. Nightmare City, he'd called it and for good reason. "I can see why my dad tried to keep me out of the Fraternity. Always having to look over your shoulder?" Wes snorted. "I had enough anxiety before I knew there was a group of highly-trained assassins that were out there wanting to kill me. Now every time I see something out of the corner of my eye, I think it's one of you. It's like the mafia. You know, once you're in, you don't get out. Unless its in a body bag."
He watched her, curious as to how she was taking all of this. In great strides, apparently.
"How?" It was his turn to look smug. "I lured him in, set a trap at my old office. Made it look like I had started working there again. I used one of my dad's old spots from across town." His gleeful tone made it obvious how much he'd enjoyed the moment. He even reveled in the memory of it. Finally taking down the man who had turned him against his own father. Who had tried to kill him. But the feeling was short-lived. He frowned, eyes falling to the floor. "You know. I'm beginning to think I'm not as nice a guy as I thought. Good people shouldn't enjoy killing."
Speaking of good people though-
"Did you know my dad lived in the house next to my old apartment?"