[s2e6] Hold What You Got -

Holloway reached out with a trembling, liver-spotted hand. He didn't take the bag. He just touched the leather with the tip of his finger, as if expecting it to be hot to the touch.

He didn't wait for a reply. He pushed through the screen door, letting it slap twice against the frame. Outside, the air smelled of ozone, wet iron, and diesel. Miller popped the collar of his jacket and walked out into the deluge, leaving the old man alone with a pouch of dirty cash and a garage full of dead men's tools. [S2E6] Hold What You Got

Miller didn’t care about the history. He only cared about the grease-stained ledger sitting on the desk between them. Holloway reached out with a trembling, liver-spotted hand

"He didn't leave," Miller corrected him. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, leather-bound pouch. He didn’t open it. He just set it on the ledger with a dull thud . "He just got traded." He didn't wait for a reply

Holloway finally looked down at the pouch. He knew what was in it. It was the payout from the three-ton haul they’d run across the state line two nights ago—the one where the tires were screaming and the engine block was glowing cherry red in the dark. It was supposed to be the money that cleared the books. "You're short," Holloway stated.