He hummed. "Well, ta to that then. Suppose I got a few years to catch up on. Might start smoking two at once just to race you there."

What would be the worse that could happen? Mathias would probably kill him again before bloody lung cancer could.

"Don't have the best experience with zipties. Last time, the bloke didn't even ask for my safe word." John paused long enough for the words to settle in. "Then he cut my arm open and left me to bleed to death after giving me a hefty dose of blood thinner. Cheeky bastard, isn't he?"

Papa Midnite wasn't really cheeky. More like a criminal voodoo king who would send his sister to Hell in order to have a hotline to the spirit world. Bastard.

"No, you're into the lovely ladies with spurs. Or, at least, I'd assume so. Given you got a cowgirl in the wings." Despite the joking tone that he always gave? It didn't seem to bother him either way.