Chapter 21

Chapter

Twenty-One

Cold was dead.

Someone is still going to die though.

No.

No, that couldn't be right.

"Keep your ass right there!" Jules barked as he drew a gun from his jacket.

"What?" Trev's ears were still ringing from the gunshot, and he stared stupidly as Jules ran toward the front door.

The waiter.

The fucking waiter was right here, still armed?—

Pfffsh .

Glass shattered as a bullet pierced one of the front windows and the waiter collapsed to the floor in a heap.

Dead.

Great.

He was dead too.

Fucking wonderful.

Lawrence screamed as he dragged Edgar to the back of the restaurant, and the security detail swarmed around them both.

Trev was frozen in his seat.

Cold was dead .

That's not how this was supposed to go.

He reached up to touch his cheek, grimacing when he felt something sticky.

Blood.

Trev stood to retreat and make sense of his spinning thoughts. He knew Cold and Jules had told him to stay, but that was before Cold got his brains splattered across the wall.

And the table.

And the chairs.

Jesus fucking Christ .

Trev backed away from the table, his heart pounding and his face numb.

Everyone else was so focused on getting Edgar out safely that they'd apparently forgotten about Trev, Jules included.

More gunshots rang out, Trev instinctively ducking as he whipped his head around in search of the source. It seemed to be coming from outside. More people screamed, more shots were fired, and Trev gritted his teeth.

He needed to get the fuck out of here.

He spared Cold a sympathetic glance and then hurried to the back of the restaurant. Whatever was about to go down, he wanted no part of it. His heart ached at the loss of Cold as much as it could, though the sting was sharper when he thought about Rowena and Jimmy finding out.

Shit.

Shit .

Cold had told him to stay at the table, but he could not have meant to hang out with his corpse while people were fucking shooting at each other.

He decided to follow after Edgar and Lawrence since they had the giant gaggle of security with them. That seemed safer as opposed to waltzing out front where all the shooting was going down.

He could leave the restaurant and double back to hitch a ride. Hell, he'd find that guy jacking off in his truck and offer to fucking blow him if he'd take him to Cold's mansion. The only thing that mattered was getting the fuck out of here and back to Jupiter and Juicy.

Trev was fucking done with gangster bullshit for-fucking-ever.

No more murder, no more lies, no more stupid plots that ended in—oh, surprise!—more fucking murder .

What the fuck had Cold been thinking?

Some fucking genius.

Trev zipped through the swinging doors into the kitchen, dodging cowering staff members as he hurried toward the rear exit. He didn't see any sign of Edgar or the security detail, but he couldn't have been too far behind them.

He shoved open the door and found himself in an alley. The sound of a car peeling away no doubt signaled Edgar's retreat and Trev groaned in frustration.

Yup.

Time to go bribe the masturbating guy.

He didn't hear any new gunshots, but he still moved cautiously, all of his senses on high alert as adrenaline continued to buzz through his body. He had no way to call for help and nothing to defend himself with other than the stupid knife he'd stolen from the restaurant.

This was great.

Just fucking great.

Trev headed out to the street and around the block toward the front of the restaurant. One of the men from the security detail was on the ground, not moving, and sirens heralded the imminent arrival of emergency services, cops, or both.

Trev didn't want to be around for either, and a quick scan of the area revealed no friendly faces. He had no idea where Jules was, and he saw no sign of Jerry, Lorre, or the limo.

Not even masturbating guy was here.

Trev did notice that the two men he and Cold had potentially identified as cops were gone. He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse. He kept walking, suddenly wishing he wasn't wearing a bright fucking pink dress shirt or that he had pink hair.

Kinda made him easy to spot.

Trev had done his best to memorize the route back to Cold's home and quickly set off on foot. It would take hours at this rate, but he wanted to keep moving. He happened to see his reflection in a store window and grimaced.

Fuck, he was still covered in blood.

There was a cafe ahead with a few outdoor tables. He stopped to swipe a cloth napkin and an abandoned glass of what he hoped was water. He doused the napkin and then continued walking, wiping off his face and neck and everywhere else he thought there might be blood.

Shit, shit, shit.

He really needed to change clothes too, but his options were limited. Trying to steal something from one of the nearby shops risked police attention, and he doubted he could convince anyone to give him their clothes. Trading was probably out too.

Especially since his still had blood on them.

He could feel it sticking to his neck in a few places and shuddered.

Ten thousand showers weren't going to be enough to wash this feeling away.

He wished Jupiter was here.

He wanted to jump into his arms and hug him close, to breathe him in and listen to him tell Trev that everything was going to be okay, that everything was going to be all right.

Even if it was a lie.

A green sedan rolled up to the sidewalk and Trev walked faster. He couldn't see who was driving, but he doubted it could be anyone friendly?—

"Trev!" someone shouted.

Trev whirled around stupidly when he recognized the voice. "Juicy?"

Juicy was indeed behind the wheel,

He was smiling like an absolute moron.

He was also wearing a hospital gown.

Trev stared.

Juicy waved. "Come on! Let's go!"

"What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck happened?" Trev quickly ran around to jump into the passenger seat. "Wait, can you drive ?"

"Of course I can drive!" Juicy huffed as he pulled back onto the street with no turn signal. "I've been driving since before you were born!"

"Okay, yes! Got it!" Trev buckled up, grimacing as someone honked their horn behind them. "So, uh, what are you doing here? Why are you in a hospital gown?"

"Oh right!" Juicy nodded. "Jupiter was worried about you."

Trev waited.

Juicy drove.

"And?" Trev prompted. "Jupiter was worried and what?"

"I just told you!" Juicy shook his head.

"Tell me again." Trev was trying to be patient, but he was really not in the mood for Juicy's usual brand of shenanigans.

"Well, we knew Jupiter wouldn't be able to leave because everyone was watching him. So, I faked having a stroke to get myself a little ride to the hospital. Once I was there, I just waited for those stupid doctors to leave and stole a car?—"

"You stole a fucking car?"

"Shh, keep your voice down," Juicy warned. "Someone might hear you! But yes, I stole a car and now I'm taking you back to Boss Cold's. I know he won't be pleased, but it had to be done."

Trev scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned. "He's not gonna be pleased about anything. He's fucking dead."

"What?"

"The restaurant. The hit? They fucking got him."

"Oh. Hmm, that can't be right." Juicy seemed confused. "We should go back."

"Excuse me?"

"We should go back! He can't be dead."

"Juicy, I literally wiped his blood off my fucking face." Trev cringed. "Going back to the restaurant is the absolute last fucking thing I want to do right now."

Juicy made a right turn at the next light, insisting, "No, no, no. That's not correct. It simply cannot be?—"

"Juicy, listen to me!" Trev grabbed Juicy's shoulder. "He's dead! Jules ran off! The fucking mayor is gone! Everybody is gone! Hello? There's no point?—"

"I know what to do!" Juicy argued.

"Goddammit, Juicy!" Trev snapped angrily. "You crazy old bastard! Will you please listen to me? For fucking once?"

Juicy stared at Trev, clearly hurt. "Do… Do you really think I'm crazy?"

"What?" Trev sighed. "No, I'm just—" He froze when he realized Juicy had run a red light and there was a car coming right at them. "Juicy! Look out!" He grabbed the wheel and tried to turn out of the way, but it was too late.

The incoming car slammed into the driver's side with enough force to spin the car around. Trev's world blurred, his stomach heaved, and the seat belt held him tight. It took him several seconds to fully reconcile what had happened and once he had, his concern shifted.

"Juicy!" Trev reached over to grab his shoulder.

"Oh! My. Hmm." Juicy appeared dazed, blood dripping down the side of his face. "That was unexpected."

"Juicy! Your head!" Trev scrambled for something to stem the flow of blood, frantically unbuckling his seat belt so he could take off his jacket. He wadded it up and pressed it to the side of Juicy's head.

"Hey! Ow!" Juicy whined.

"Shut up! You're bleeding!"

"I was fine until you slapped me in the head with your coat!"

"Idiot! You're fucking bleeding all over the place!" Trev searched over Juicy's body. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"I don't think so." Juicy shrugged. "Hmm. The airbags didn't go off. That's probably not a good sign."

The driver of the car who had struck them was out and hurrying toward them. Several other onlookers were crowding the street to check on the other vehicles involved in the accident. It looked like there had been quite a pileup.

"We need to get out of the car." Trev unbuckled. "Before the cops get here."

"Shouldn't we wait for the authorities to get here?"

"Juicy! No!" Trev checked over himself for any injuries before hopping out of the car with a groan. He was definitely going to be sore later, but for now he was good to move. He had to be.

The accident was drawing too much attention.

People crowded the sidewalk and took pictures and video with their phones, though a select few came over to tend to those in the wrecked vehicles. Trev tried to wave at them and signal he and Juicy were fine, but he wasn't sure how long that would keep any well-meaning Samaritans away.

Trev opened Juicy's door. "Come on, we gotta go."

"Where are we going?" Juicy blinked.

"Anywhere but here." Trev took a deep breath. "We need to get back to Cold's place as soon as we can so we can grab Jupiter and leave, okay? All of this is about to go down in one big giant pile of steaming shit and I do not want to explain a single fucking word of this to the cops!"

"We can't flee the scene of an accident," Juicy scolded.

Trev wanted to shake him. "We're in a stolen car!" he hissed. "Get your ass up!"

"It's not stolen! I bought this car twenty-three years ago! Runs great! Purrs like a kitten!"

"Okay, I didn't want to have to do this." Trev wasn't even sure if it was going to work, but he had to get Juicy out of the damn car. "Come here, boy! Come here!"

Juicy narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing?"

Trev took a few steps back, patting his leg and looking down as if he was talking to a dog. "Hey! Such a good boy! Come here! Come here, Barkie!"

"Hey!" Juicy gasped. "No! Barkie, come here this instant!"

Trev mimed wrapping his arms around the imaginary dog and scooped him up, tucking him under his arm. He had no idea what kind of dog Barkie was supposed to be, but hopefully he was small enough that Juicy would buy this. "Nope. Me and Barkie are leaving."

"Put my dog down!" Juicy shouted. "Thief! Help! Dog thief!"

"We're gonna go get doggy ice cream, aren't we?" Trev turned to walk away, cradling the imaginary dog and petting his head. "Say bye bye, Juicy!"

"It's a good thing the police are on their way!" Juicy yelled as he came racing after Trev. "I will have them arrest you for dognapping!"

As soon as Juicy caught up, Trev slung his arm around his shoulders and squeezed him close. "Oh, hey! Juicy! Let's take Barkie for a walk, huh?"

"A walk?"

"Yeah! A walk!" Trev passed over the imaginary dog and mimed handing Juicy a leash. "I bet there's plenty of cool places around here for him to pee."

"Oh! All right!" Juicy perked up, taking hold of the imaginary leash and falling into step beside Trev.

Trev could see that Juicy was bleeding from two small cuts on the side of his forehead. "Uh, how's your head?"

"Mm?" Juicy shrugged. "Fine. How's yours?"

"No complaints."

"That's nice. Hmm, I think Barkie wants to go this way."

"You got it." Trev was happy to follow the whims of the imaginary dog as long as said imaginary dog took them far away from the scene of the accident. He heard someone calling after them, but he kept them moving. There was no way they were sticking around to explain any of this to the cops.

Now here Trev was, wearing a bright pink shirt with no jacket to hide it because his jacket was currently in Juicy's hand balled up on the side of his head. Juicy was in a hospital gown with nothing underneath, shamelessly charging forward as the open back flapped and revealed his bare ass for everyone to see, either not aware of his nudity or simply nor caring.

"Hey, why don't we tie the jacket around your waist?" Trev suggested. "I think your head stopped bleeding." He grunted as Juicy steered them sharply around a corner. "Juicy! Where the hell is Barkie going?"

"To the restaurant!" Juicy swatted at Trev's attempts to help him. "He knows the way and I know what to do now. I've been there before."

"Oh, have you?"

"It's not like it's the first time anybody's ordered a hit there!" Juicy shook his head. "That's why I thought it was so stupid. Like, remaking movies. Why remake Twister ? Why? A musical reinterpretation is something different entirely, like with the classic film, Mean Girls ?—"

"Hey, Juicy! Focus!" Trev snapped. "What do you mean you thought it was stupid? You never said anything!"

"You didn't ask me."

"Juicy!"

"The restaurant. Il Grifone." Juicy kept waddling ahead, stubborn as ever. "When I was a pilot, I whacked somebody there."

"You mean when you were a hitman?"

"No, I was a pilot!"

Trev skidded to stop when he saw the restaurant at the end of the block. There were dozens of police cars, a fire truck, and countless other cars crowded around it. Men in uniform and in suits were running around like ants as barriers were put up to block off a growing crowd.

"Shit." Trev grabbed Juicy's shoulder and tried to pull him back. "Yeah, no. See all that? See that shit? We want to get very, very far away from that shit!"

"But I told you!" Juicy was annoyed. "That's where we need to be. With the trees. Two trees, three trees, and?—"

"Yes, yes! I've heard all about the fucking trees!" Trev hissed, pulling harder on Juicy's arm. "The trees aren't here, Juicy! Those are back in fucking Perry City at the stupid park!"

"No! They're over there! At the restaurant! That's where we need to?—"

"I am going to kick the shit out of your fucking dog?—"

Juicy gasped. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Juicy—"

"Trev?" Juicy's gaze drifted over Trev's shoulder.

"What? I'm—oh shit!" Trev yelped when big hands grabbed him and the cool barrel of a gun jammed into his temple. He held up his hands, gritting his teeth. "Fuck me."

"Not on your life, you fuckin' whore." It was Emil.

There were two big suited men on either side of him.

Great.

Fabulous.

"What the fuck?" Trev stared. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Cleaning up the leftovers." Emil smirked. "We got Cold, we got Cold's little bitch brother, and his…" He stared at Juicy. "This old bitch."

"Old? Who are you calling old?" Juicy raged, swatting feebly at Emil, but one of the suited men grabbed him. "I'll snap your damn neck, you stupid fucks!"

Trev tightened his fists, keeping track of where the knife was in his sleeve. "Just let him go. He doesn't have anything to do with this."

"Oh, no, no." Emil smiled wickedly. "He's just in time to see the big finale. Now that Cold is dead, I am going to take pleasure in killing his brother too." He jerked his head. "We need to get off the street. Now."

Emil grabbed Trev by his collar, dragging him down the sidewalk toward an unfortunately familiar SUV. Trev struggled, but there wasn't much he could do with a gun pressed against his head. He was tempted to scream for help since there were so many cops nearby.

One of them had to notice, right?

At least one person had to come around the corner and see what was happening.

Someone, anyone—driving by, looking out their window, fucking anything .

Trev grunted as Emil shoved him into the back seat of the SUV. "Hey! Where's Juicy?"

"The old man is coming too, don't you worry." Emil smirked as he slid in beside Trev.

Trev tried to bolt to the other door, but he ended up with a face full of Juicy as Juicy was wrestled in next to him. "Fuck! Watch it! He has a fucking head injury, you assholes!"

Juicy barked furiously, snarling and swinging his arms. "I will kill all of you! You're all fucking dead! My dog will eat your fucking guts and shit them out, eat them, and shit you out again !"

Trev blinked. "Okay. That's a thing you said."

"Oh, I didn't mean you, Trev." Juicy smiled warmly. "You know how much Barkie loves you. I don't think he'd eat you."

Trev sighed haggardly. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

One of the suited men climbed in with Juicy, forcing Juicy and Trev to get sandwiched together in the middle. The other suited man got behind the wheel.

Trev tried to find some possible way to be comfortable, but it was not going to happen with how he was being crushed up against Juicy. "So, uh. Wherever we're going, are we gonna be there soon? Because this fucking sucks?—"

"Shut the fuck up." Emil smacked him in the back of his head with the butt of the gun.

"Ow! You fucking piece of shit!" Trev growled angrily and thrashed until another blow made him see stars. He held his head, panting through the pain as he snarled, "You're so… dead. So fucking dead !"

"Quiet now." Emil snorted. "Don't worry. We're not going far. Just far enough that the cops won't hear you bitches screaming when we tear you apart."

Trev wasn't sure if Emil was exaggerating or not, but he didn't dare ask for him to clarify.

Had to think.

He had to think.

He had to fucking think .

Okay, he had a knife inside his sleeve. That was something, right?

Shit, they were so fucked.

Trev refused to give in to despair, his thoughts flashing back to Cold's head on the table. Cold might have been dumb enough to walk right into a trap, but not Trev.

Trev was smarter.

Braver.

Fucking better.

He had to be or he and Juicy weren't going to make it the fuck out of here.

Trev turned his aching head to look out the window as they drove, quickly trying to map out any store names or street signs that would give him a clue as to where they were headed. Even though he didn't know this area, he could try to memorize those details to aid in his eventual escape or to tell someone else…

Shit, yeah right.

Like anyone was going to come rescue them.

And besides, how would Trev contact them? He didn't have a phone and it wasn't like he knew any of their fucking phone numbers.

He shifted his arm down so the knife was closer to his cuff.

One quick little shake and he'd have the knife in his hand.

New plan.

He was going to stab the fuck out of the driver and then Emil.

Especially Emil, that fucker.

Once the vehicle had stopped, he and Juicy would get out and run. They were still in the city limits, and certainly these fuckers wouldn't try to chase them down and shoot them in broad daylight. Maybe. Possibly.

Trev cringed as the SUV pulled into what looked to be an old garage.

Okay, okay, he had to make his move.

Fuck.

Fuck, shit.

He couldn't get the knife to slide past his cuff.

It was too tight and the knife wouldn't naturally slip by.

If he tried to pull it out, it would be obvious he was trying to do something.

Fuck!

The SUV stopped and the man in the passenger seat got out to close the garage door behind them.

"Let's go." Emil grunted as he got out, his gun still pointed at Trev.

Trev glared fearlessly. "Go on, bitch. Think I'm going to make this easy for you? Fuck you!"

Emil nodded his head toward one of the other men.

They opened the other door to the back seat, going for Juicy.

"Hey, hey!" Trev screamed. "Let him go!"

"Get your bitch ass out," Emil warned, "or I'll make sure he dies real fuckin' slow."

"Ow!" the suited man who had a hold of Juicy cried out.

"What?" Emil demanded.

"Crazy old bat fucking bit me!"

Juicy barked and howled triumphantly. "Get 'em, Barkie! Get 'em!"

Emil grabbed Trev's arm to drag him out, jamming the gun against his head to serve as extra motivation to move quickly. He forced Trev forward into what may have been an old office, empty now except for a desk and some stray papers. It happened so quickly that Trev barely saw anything of the interior of the garage except for at least one door that might have led outside but it was boarded up.

Trev grunted as Emil shoved him into the desk, wheezing as he struggled to catch himself.

Juicy continued to bark furiously, even after the suited man threw him on the floor. "He hasn't had his shots! I hope you get fucking rabies!"

Emil smiled sweetly. "Just you wait. As soon as Sal gets here, it's over for you fucks."

The door slammed shut and locked.

Trev kneeled to help Juicy to his feet, averting his gaze from where the hospital gown had flipped up. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy keen, jelly bean," Juicy replied. "I do have the most dreadful headache though."

Trev looked over Juicy's head. The bleeding appeared to have stopped, but he grimaced when Juicy turned around, flashing his bare ass. He grabbed the jacket off the floor. "Here. Tie this on, okay?"

"Oh, well! If you insist." Juicy shrugged.

Trev leaned against the desk with a groan, quickly taking a closer look at the office.

It was small and eerily reminiscent of the room he'd been chained up in.

No windows and only one door.

Great.

Wonderful .

The door did have a sheet of frosted glass in it, but Trev didn't think smashing it would be a good idea. It would be too loud and would certainly draw way too much attention. Not to mention that Emil or any of those other suited pricks were probably waiting for them on the other side.

Trev searched the walls for any kind of weakness and found nothing. He looked up at the ratty ceiling tiles and waved Juicy over. "Hey! Hey, come here. If we…"

Juicy had tied the sleeves of the jacket around his head like a cape.

"Right." Trev cleared his throat. "If we get up on the desk, do you think you can crawl up through there? I can help give you a boost or pull you up! We might be able to find a way out!"

Juicy stared blankly. "The ceiling won't hold us."

"Come on!" Trev pleaded. "We have to fucking try!"

"No."

"Juicy!" Trev hissed frantically. "I'm not staying here to fucking die!"

"It's not like the movies, kid." Juicy shook his head. "Do you see how rotted out that shit is? We'll collapse back through and hit the damn floor! Probably break your fucking neck!"

"Okay!" Trev threw up his hands angrily. "Do you have any better fucking ideas, huh?"

"Not really, but oh…" Juicy sighed and looked off into the corner with a grimace.

"Oh God. What?" Trev groaned. "What is it now?"

"Barkie just had an accident."

"Of course he fucking did."