Chapter 22

Chapter

Twenty-Two

Ignoring the imaginary dog accident, Trev continued to search the room for anything that might help them escape.

The desk was empty except for more paper, a stapler, and a roll of yellowed masking tape.

Yes, good.

Trev could beat Emil in the head with a stapler and shove some of the papers and old tape down his throat. That would work so beautifully. That would be just fucking great.

With a growl, he sat down on the desk and pulled the knife out from his sleeve.

Think, think, think.

The knife was a restaurant steak knife, so he felt it was a slight upgrade to the butter knife he'd previously stolen from Cold's breakfast table.

Cold…

Roderick.

He was gone and Trev was startled by a sudden burst of rage. It wasn't fair. Just when Cold was actually showing him that he wasn't a complete asshole, he had to go and get himself killed.

Rowena and Jimmy were going to be heartbroken.

And what would happen to the others? Jules and Mickey? Would they be all right without their leader? Would the city go down with its criminal king dead in the ground?

Those were someone else's problems, Trev tried to tell himself. It wasn't any of his damn business, and yet he couldn't escape the worries clouding his thoughts. He was more affected by Cold's loss than he first realized, and he didn't know what to do with that.

He hadn't given a shit about losing anyone since his mother.

And now Cold…

Trev felt sick.

His mind drifted to Jupiter now, and he only felt worse. Thinking that he might not be able to see Jupiter again made his stomach turn even harder and his heart ache. They were going to run away together. They were going to have a fucking future together, and it was absolute bullshit to have been given such a wonderful gift, only to have it taken away.

Because Jupiter was a gift, a treasure even, and Trev didn't want to imagine a life without him now.

He touched his collar and his chest tightened.

No.

Fuck this.

He didn't give up when he was chained to a wall. He wasn't going to give up now.

With a grunt, Trev heaved himself up on the desk.

"What are you doing?" Juicy asked. "I don't think there's any spiders up there."

"I'm trying to get us the fuck out of here," Trev said firmly. "I don't weigh as much as you do?—"

"Rude!" Juicy gasped.

"I might be able to get through!" Trev insisted. "Just stay here, okay? I'll get the cops, I'll do whatever." He took a deep breath. "But we've got to get the fuck out, okay? I am not fucking dying here. Not fucking today."

Juicy frowned. "You look like you should die on a Monday. Not a Friday."

"Thank you, Juicy." Trev tucked the knife back up his shirt sleeve so he could reach the ceiling tiles and shift one out of the way. The opening was small but Trev was confident he could wiggle through.

Whether or not the ceiling would actually hold him was definitely a concern, but it was better than just sitting here waiting to be murdered.

Trev grabbed the edges of the frame where the tile had been to pull himself up. He grunted from the strain of having to drag himself upward, gasping when he was pushed even higher from below. He looked down to see Juicy there, having climbed on the desk to assist him.

"Up, up, and away!" Juicy said with a grin.

"Thanks, Juicy!" Trev tipped forward, getting his upper body spread across the ceiling and pulling his legs up behind him.

Okay, this wasn't good.

He could already feel the ceiling dipping from his weight, and he looked around quickly, trying to map out the dark space for any place that looked more sturdy. He spied a big wooden beam—some kind of support—and he carefully shifted forward.

The ceiling creaked, and one of the tiles dropped.

Shit, shit, shit.

"I don't think this is safe," Juicy whispered loudly.

"Shut up," Trev hissed back. "Just let me do this!"

"But it's stupid!"

"Shut up!"

Stupid or not, Trev continued to slowly wiggle toward the beam. As far as he could tell, the direction he was currently headed should be taking him to the back of the garage where the door was.

The door that was boarded up…

But maybe he'd be able to pry the boards off. Maybe it wouldn't be as hard to open as he thought. He was strong. He had adrenaline on his side and could definitely snatch off a few old boards with his bare hands before Emil or any of his goons shot him.

Maybe.

Fuck.

He tracked the open space in front of him and tried to weigh his options.

It was either this or going back into the office to die.

He had to fucking try.

He had to—oh no.

The ceiling groaned and gave way, sending Trev right down into the office with a crash.

He hit the desk, the breath knocked out of his lungs. He wheezed, his body immediately racked with pain, and struggled not to scream.

"Keep it down in there!" a man's voice shouted. "Stupid fucks."

Trev didn't have enough air to curse back.

Juicy petted the top of Trev's head. "You are not a spider monkey."

"No shit," Trev croaked.

"Nor a squirrel."

"Yup. Got it."

"Or, hmm, what else climbs really well…" Juicy hummed. "Maybe a sloth."

"Okay, enough!" Trev groaned as he sat up, dusting himself off and glaring up at the ceiling. "Look, at least I was trying! I can't just sit here and do fucking nothing, waiting for those assholes to come in here and blow us away. Which is…"

"What?"

"Why are they waiting?" Trev blinked. "I mean, they could have just shot us both as soon as they brought us here."

Juicy scratched his chin. "I always thought it was strange, but it's just sort of something organized crime enjoys. Witnesses. Taunting. Long, meandering speeches. Ugo was really into that kind of thing."

Trev flinched. "Ugo? Ugo Luchesi?"

He thought Juicy might have said that name before, but he didn't think he'd made the connection until now.

Shit .

"Uh-huh." Juicy reached down to scratch at Barkie's nonexistent head. "He always wanted to come with me on special jobs. He would sometimes even request to shoot them too. They'd already be dead, so it was sort of silly, but he really enjoyed it."

Trev grimaced. "That is fucked up."

Juicy grinned. "He had his ways about him, that's for sure."

Trev sighed heavily. "He's a real treat. Loves parties."

"Oh! You've met him?"

"Yeah." Trev shrugged. "You guys apparently have the same nurse or something. Did you know that?"

"When did I get a nurse?"

"Yup. That's what I thought." Trev glanced at the door with a scowl.

Opening it and just trying to walk out was probably ridiculous.

Okay, but it was worth a try, right?

Trev took the knife from his sleeve as he hopped off the desk. He crept toward the door and then carefully turned the knob, trying not to make a single sound that might draw any attention.

Juicy was right behind him, asking, "What are you doing?"

"Shhhh!" Trev waved at him frantically. "Will you be quiet? I'm trying to get a better look around! Maybe there's another way out of here!"

"There's not. I looked." Juicy blinked slowly. "I saw a door… garage doors. A door that was boarded up. That's it."

"Wait, wait, so did you see two doors or three doors?" Trev let go of the knob, turning to address Juicy. He knew this conversation might ultimately be pointless, but he was willing to try just in case.

"There are…"

"Yeah?"

Juicy grinned. "Five."

"Five. How the fuck do you figure five?"

"The three garage doors for the bay, the one that's boarded up, and this one here to the office!"

"Shit." Trev grimaced.

He already knew that, so that was less than helpful.

Juicy frowned. "Was that not the right answer? Okay! Then there are six doors."

"Are you just saying that?"

"No."

Trev scowled but he focused back on the door, slowly turning the knob. He moved as silently as he could and once the knob could not be twisted more, he opened the door a tiny crack to peek out into the garage.

Three garage doors, the boarded up door, and…

Nothing.

Unless there was one hiding from his line of sight directly to the left or right from this door, there were truly only five doors inside this building, which meant no magical way out of here.

One of the suited men spotted the office door opening. "Hey! Shut the goddamn door before I pump you full of fucking holes!"

Trev grimaced and slammed the door shut.

So much for that.

"I'm sorry." Juicy frowned. "I really thought there might be six."

"No, no, it's okay." Trev offered a small smile. "I understand you're trying to help me. It's… It's really all right." He returned to the desk to plot, his thoughts in shambles.

Fuck.

This…

This really might be it.

"Your mother was really a lovely woman," Juicy said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Trev quirked his brows.

"Your mother." Juicy smiled. "She knew, I think. That I was watching over you two. She noticed. Of course she did, heh. She was smart. And she knew it wasn't a coincidence that I kept showing up everywhere you were. She was very observant, smart. Clever."

Trev hesitated to say anything that might interrupt Juicy's rambling.

He had said very little to Trev about his mother, and he couldn't imagine another time he might be able to hear any of this. "Yeah? Was she?"

"Oh yes." Juicy nodded. "Mind teasers, brain puzzles, riddles. She had a real knack for them. Whiz at crosswords too. She was always kind to me…" He touched his brow. "Even when my mind started to go. Wherever it goes. Huh. Where does it go?"

"What?"

"Your mind." Juicy stared at him intently. "When it goes, where is it? Where does it end up?"

"Maybe…" Trev smiled. "Maybe it goes to the beach and we'll find it there."

"You really think we're going to make it to the beach?"

"I have to." Trev hit the desk, his frustrations bubbling over. "I have to fucking believe in something. I'm not going to give up. I can't just sit here waiting to get fucking murdered! I was in danger, always at risk. I put myself in stupid fucking situations all the time, I did some of the dumbest shit you can think of, and…"

Somehow I made it .

Why?

How?

"There were so many times I could have died," Trev said quietly. "I was… arrogant . I didn't care. I thought I was in control and I was smarter than everyone else was. Which, hey, is true for a lot of people, but… not all of them. I was a fucking idiot. All that mattered to me was the next payout, the next hustle, the next anything that would get me away from Perry City."

"And now?" Juicy prompted.

Trev's eyes were hot. "Now…"

Juicy came over to sit beside Trev on the desk, slinging his arm around Trev's shoulders. "What is it, kid? Talk to me."

Trev stared at a spot on the floor. "Now it's not just about me. There's people I care about and I have so much to lose. You, Jupiter, Rowena, Jimmy…"

"Cold?"

"He's already gone," Trev whispered bitterly. "I think I was just starting to understand him and now he's fucking dead. Because he's like me. Was like me. Arrogant, cocky, thought he had everything planned out, that he could control fucking everything. And look where it fucking got him."

"The boss of Strassen Springs?"

"Dead."

"Ah, yes. That too."

"I'm scared that's what is going to happen to me." Trev leaned over to put his head on Juicy's shoulder. "I was so sure I could play this out in some way that would get me what I wanted, and now… Now we're fucking trapped here and there's no goddamn way out. I never got to tell Jupiter how much… I…" He growled angrily. "Fuck, now I just sound like a fucking cliché."

"Never got to tell him what?" Juicy smiled warmly. "You can tell me if you want."

"That I was falling for him," Trev said with a sigh. "That I could see a future for us, a real happily ever after. Get married, adopt dogs, all that shit."

"Aw, you like dogs?"

Trev laughed sadly. "No, I'm a fish person."

"Oh well. Everybody makes mistakes, I suppose." Juicy's eyes gleamed. "I had a sweetheart once. A long time ago."

"Yeah?" Trev smirked. "What was her name?"

"Melba." Juicy's eyes glimmered. "She was perfect. The best smile, an incredible laugh, bright feathers…"

"Feathers?"

"Yes! She loved feathers." Juicy chuckled. "She always wove them into her hair with these little braids. It was beautiful."

"What happened?"

"I… I had to work." Juicy's smile dipped down into a deep crease. "I was a doctor then. I had to make rounds, see patients, I… I was gone for too long. When I finally decided to stop being a doctor, she was already gone."

Trev frowned. "Gone? Like… what? She died?"

"No, you dummy," Juicy scolded. "She married someone else."

"Oh."

"You know I wasn't really a doctor, right?"

"No, yeah, I had my suspicions." Trev bumped their shoulders together.

"I've been so many things. So many lies. So many stories and lives that were all my own for a short while and then faded away so I could take on the next job." Juicy sighed. "And the only thing I regret… is that I didn't get to be Melba's husband. And that's what I wanted to be the most."

"I'm sorry, Juicy."

"Me too, Trev." Juicy nudged Trev. "Maybe you'll still have the chance to be who you want to be."

"Gonna be kinda hard if I'm dead." Trev shook his head, his shoulders sagging. "Maybe in the next life."

"Oh." Juicy blinked slowly and his eyes became strikingly clear. He frowned, reaching out his hand to Trev. "Please. Give me the knife."

"Sure. Wanna stab me in the throat with it? Put me out of my misery?"

"I need you to call for them." Juicy looked over the knife and squeezed the handle tight.

"Call for who?" Trev rolled his eyes.

"The men guarding us. Tell them you're having chest pain."

"Wow, speaking of shit from the movies." Trev rolled his eyes even harder. "Do I look old enough to have a heart attack?"

"Fine. Tell them I'm having chest pain," Juicy said firmly. He was oddly focused, his expression stern. "Go ahead."

Trev frowned. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"Getting us out of here so you can be what you want to be in this life."

"What the fuck are you going to do?" Trev demanded, his patience thin. "Juicy, come on?—"

Juicy grabbed Trev's shoulder and squeezed with surprising strength. "Trev, you're a good kid. You've always been kind to me. Even when I get—" He sighed. "—confused. But I need you to trust me now. That I know what to do, all right?"

Trev tensed.

"Please," Juicy said quietly. "So we can get back to Jupiter, huh? Got a beach to go to, right?"

"Yeah." Trev nodded. "Okay, but if you're wrong and we fucking die, I am so kicking your ass in fucking hell, all right?"

"Deal." Juicy patted Trev's shoulder. "Go on. Now."

Trev headed to the door. He took a deep breath before he pounded on the glass, screaming, "Hey! Hey! Someone come here! Help! Help us!"

There was no answer.

"Hey! Fuckers! Come on!" Trev screamed. "Juicy fell over! He said somethin' about chest pain and just hit the fucking floor! I don't think he's fucking breathing! Come the fuck on, you dickless fucks!"

Juicy silently positioned himself next to the door. When it opened, he would be behind it and out of immediate sight.

A man grunted on the other side of the glass. "What the fuck?"

It wasn't Emil, so probably one of the other big suited idiots.

"Hey! Hey! Please!" Trev smacked the glass frantically. "Please! We need some fucking help in here! Please! Hurry!"

"Yeah, yeah, hang on." The man growled. "Just wait a damn minute."

Trev saw the knob turning and he backed up quickly.

The door opened and the man came in. "Okay! Where the fuck is?—"

He didn't even have enough time to finish his sentence.

Juicy was too fast.

With alarming speed, Juicy slammed the door shut with his foot and grabbed the man's head from behind. He twisted it and there was a distinct crack , and the man fell to the floor in a heap.

"Holy shit," Trev whispered. "You… You…"

"Come on." Juicy grabbed the man's arm. "Help me move him behind the desk. More will be coming."

"What? Right. Holy shit." Trev grabbed the man's other arm and pulled him behind the desk. "His feet are still sticking out."

Juicy huffed and crouched down, bending the man's legs to keep his feet out of sight. He quickly stood back by the door again, saying quietly, "Come here. Get behind me and don't move."

"You seriously just snapped that guy's neck."

"Yes."

"Like a fucking ninja or something!"

Juicy shushed him.

Footsteps approached, and Trev clicked his teeth together, his heart jumping up into the back of his throat. It was one thing to be told that his sweet old neighbor used to be a hitman, but it was quite another to see him in action as he effortlessly ended a man's life.

Yes, the man worked for the Luchesi family and would have certainly murdered Trev or Juicy given the chance, but still.

Holy shit .

That seemed to be the phrase of the day, and it repeated in Trev's brain over and over on a loop. It wasn't a very productive line of thinking, but it did prevent him from having an absolute fit over the prospect of seeing Juicy murder someone again.

"Hey!" a new man's voice called. "What's going on? Bear? Where are you?"

Bear's taking a little nap nap right now , Trev thought crazily.

The permanent kind.

The new man stormed in, the door swinging open and catching on Juicy's arm. He turned to glare at Juicy. "What are you?—"

Juicy grabbed the man's wrist as he raised his gun and stabbed him in the neck.

Trev looked away, but he felt blood spray across his face.

Ugh, that was the second time today.

And it was hot and thick—wait, that…

Trev didn't have enough time to figure out why that felt extra wrong, cringing as he finally opened his eyes to see Juicy taking the man down to the floor and stabbing him again. He turned his gaze back to the ceiling when he realized just how much of Juicy he could see right now. "Is he dead?"

"He's definitely not alive." Juicy stood with a grunt.

Trev peeked open one eye, seeing now Juicy had taken the man's gun. "What now?"

"Now we get the fuck out of here." Juicy pushed Trev back behind the door. "I need you to wait here."

"No!" Trev growled. "You're not leaving me here!"

"There's only one man left unless more have arrived. We need to go while we can and I need to make sure the way is clear."

"What way? The only door I saw is all boarded up!" Trev argued. "Which means using the fucking garage door and that's loud as fuck!"

"All the more reason for you to stay put."

"Suck my fucking dick, Juicy! I'm not?—"

A door slammed in the distance with enough force to rattle the entire rickety building.

Which was good because it let them know there was another door, but it was also bad because it might mean that more people were here—Sal?

Why not Godzilla?

Trev scrambled for anything he could use as a weapon. He pulled out one of the drawers from the desk, but then he remembered there was another corpse to loot. He checked over the man's body and found a gun under his jacket.

There.

Better.

He'd never fired a gun but he understood the concept well enough and knew to check to see if the safety was on. He stomped over to Juicy's side, saying firmly, "I'm going with you. We go together or not at all, okay?"

Juicy's eyes appeared heavy, but he nodded. "All right."

Footsteps rapidly approached, at least three or more people, but they stopped just short of the door.

"Well, shit." It was Emil. "I only left for a few fuckin minutes, I swear?—"

There was a loud smack, no doubt Sal slapping him.

"You fucking idiot!" Sal shouted. "I can't trust you to fucking watch paint dry, you fucking moron!" He growled in frustration, now addressing Juicy and Trev as he snapped, "You two. Come out, nice and easy. There's nowhere else to go."

Juicy held a finger to his lips.

Trev nodded and said nothing.

"Come on now," Sal said, his patience clearly thinning. "There's a lot more of us than there are of you."

"Not until you've satisfied my list of demands!" Juicy shouted back at him.

"What fucking demands?"

"We want to walk out of here, free and unharmed." Juicy's brow furrowed. "And then we need a car. And dog food. I want the Blue Buffalo kind in the purple bag. None of that cheap shit."

Trev's heart sank.

Whatever clarity Juicy had was leaving him now, and Trev watched in horror as Juicy's hand holding the gun trembled. He quickly reached over to take it from him, biting his lip until he tasted blood.

"What?" Sal scoffed. "You want fucking dog food?"

"Yes!" Juicy snapped angrily, massaging his brow like he was fending off a headache. "I… I need dog food for Barkie. Barkie has got to be hungry by now. I don't know when he ate last."

Sal snorted, his voice dropping as he said, "Kill them both. Old man is off his shit. End this. Now."

"But I thought you wanted to—" Emil started.

"No! You fucking moron!" Sal growled, and there was another smack. "I said I wanted them dead. You could have just brought me corpses and I would have been happy. Now we've lost two men 'cause you thought I needed to see them die for some stupid ass fucking reason."

Trev felt the building shift ever so slightly as if the door had opened again, but he didn't hear anything. He was wondering what it was, but he didn't need long to think about it.

Bang, bang, bang .

Three quick shots were followed by three consecutive thumps .

"No." Sal gasped sharply. "It fucking can't be."

"How the fucking fuck?" Emil demanded. "How… Fucking how ?"

"No, no. No fucking way!"

Someone laughed.

A snarky, mean, smug fucking laugh.

It couldn't be…

Trev peeked around the door even as Juicy tried to stop him, his heart freezing in his chest as he stared out at…

Holy fucking shit.

Boss Cold.

Very much not dead and looking especially pleased with himself in a new navy blue suit.

Jules, Lorre, Mickey, and Jupiter were behind him, along with two other men Trev hadn't yet met, one very old and one very young. There was also a redheaded man with glasses and he, like all the rest except Jupiter, was armed.

Cold's gun was big, really big, and it had a shiny pearl grip that caught the light and gleamed, almost as brightly as his teeth as he grinned.

Emil took a step back as Sal screamed, "No! You're dead! You're fucking dead! We saw it! We all fucking saw!" He was shaking. "You're dead !"

"I would say I'm surprised you fell for it, but…" Cold chuckled. "I'm really not."