Reynolds held the cigarette with two of the three fingers on his disfigured left hand, though no more disconcerting than the rest of his body which was covered with self inflicted scars.

Reynolds nodded. “Thought you might.”

Randal stood there silent a moment. “Do you take issue with that?”

Reynolds shook his head. “Not my place,” he said. “But are you sure you’re up for this one alone? If you need any backup, I’m more than happy to offer my assistance.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think this is something I need to do on my own.”

Reynolds nodded.