Page 169 of Ready to Cash Out

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.

---