Page 176 of Ready to Cash Out

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.”

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