104. Meat Suit Part 2

The door closes after the last man leaves the pub. Tejeda resumes his previous position and finishes his drink. By now, we are both soaking wet, but neither of us seems to care. My reason is the seven beers. I wonder what his is.

"Apparently, you're not leaving, and we've run out of time," he says as he turns to face me. His purple eyes sparkle. A chill goes down my spine. "These guys aren't going down without a fight. I might have to die to quench their hunger for vengeance. But the crystal I took is far more significant. It must be safeguarded."

Tejeda leans forward, his hand reaching over the bar for the knife the bartender uses for the lemons. He sits again in his chair, gripping the handle with both of his hands, the pointy tip toward his stomach. I have seen this stance before in movies when someone performs seppuku.

Filling his lungs with air, his chest expands, and he thrusts the knife right into his belly. I cover my mouth with a hand but not my eyes. I need to see what happe
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