Page 69 of Ready to Cash Out

“Be prepared to drive really, really fast.”

“Fuck,” Trev hissed between his teeth as he pulled out, headed for the driveway. The lights were automatic at least, so he didn’t have to worry about finding them, and his heart continued to throb in the back of his throat and nearly choked every breath.

“Yous guys are fuckin’ dumb,” Howell drawled. “Like, stickin’ your dick all up in a cheese grater to blow a load fuckin’ dumb. If you’d just waited, like, five more minutes, ya’ wouldn’t have to pull this stupid shit.”

“Shut up,” Jupiter warned.

“I bet yous used to put forks in light sockets, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Trev ignored them as he drove toward the gate at the end of the driveway. The gate was open, but there were two guards standing in the way, doubtlessly armed. They shielded their eyes against the headlights of the SUV, and one beckoned Trev to pull up. The other was reaching under his jacket.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Jupiter?” Trev asked urgently.

“Yous was the kid eatin’ glue in class, huh?” Howell continued to taunt. “Probably like smellin’ your own farts too. Pull up the covers and Dutch oven yourself on the regular.”

“I said, shut up!” Jupiter snapped.

“First time you’d tried to get your fuck on, did ya’ try to put it in their belly button? Or did ya’ just hump their ass crack?”

“Jupiter!” Trev shouted.

They were only a few feet away from the guards now, and Trev had no idea what to do. He could floor it and pray they didn’t get shot as they fled, but that seemed like a terrible plan.

The guard was coming up to the window.

“Yous are so fuckin’ dumb I bet you’d climb a glass wall just to see what was behind it,” Howell kept on, laughing now.

“I will fucking kill you if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Jupiter growled. “Tell these bastards to let us go?—”

The guard knocked on Trev’s window, and Trev gritted his teeth. “Can you guys both shut up?”

Howell cackled. “If yous had double the brains ya’ got now, you’d still be a half-wit!”

The guard knocked again, harder this time.

“One sec, sir! The, uh, child locks are on.” Trev squirmed miserably. “Jupiter, what do I do?”

Jupiter huffed. “Lower the window and?—”

“Did yous even get that joke?” Howell grinned back at Jupiter. He didn’t seem like he had a care in the world. “Mighta been too much ’cause it had some math in it. Half is a fraction, and?—”

Jupiter raised the gun right against the side of Howell’s head as he snarled, “I told you to?—”

“For fuck’s sake!” Trev groaned.

The guard banged on the window, and the other guard drew a gun.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Pop.

Trev couldn’t immediately identify the sound, but he saw the guard with the gun collapse.

Pop.

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