Page 74 of Ready to Cash Out

“Yeah, it was a long shot, but hey!” Howell shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Jupiter asked again, leveling the gun at Howell’s head. “No more bullshit. No more games! Who the fuck do you work for, huh? And who took out the guys at the gate?”

“All right, all right, sheesh. Keep your fuckin’ panties on, bastard.” Howell snorted. “One question at a time, fuckin’ fuck. I work for Alistair Star, a businessman who’s pretty good friends with a certain somebody’s half-brother.”

“Cold,” Trev realized out loud.

“Yup.” Howell clicked his tongue. “Once he heard you was snatched up, he worked fast to get some solid people down here to help get you out.”

Trev grabbed a dish towel from the kitchen. He could see a tear in the fabric of Jupiter’s jacket on his left shoulder. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Jupiter shrugged his jacket off with a wince, and his sleeve was soaked in blood. He took the towel to press against the wound, but he didn’t take his eyes off Howell.

“We heard about this Howell prick, and hey, wouldn’t you know it?” Howell grinned. “Nobody’s ever actually met this dumb fuck before! It was a cinch to slip on in and just take his fuckin’ place.” He patted the real Howell’s head. “He ain’t been too happy, but fuck ’im.”

Jupiter slowly lowered the gun. “You’ve been posing as Howell to get to Trev?”

“Yeah, duh. Hello? That’s what I just fuckin’ said.” Howell—or whoever he was—scoffed. “Are you listenin’ to a damn word I’m sayin’? Cold and his guys wouldn’t have been able to get here in time. Me and my boy were closer.”

“Your boy?”

“My friend. My buddy. Mr. Pew Pew up on the roof who helped us get away.” Howell waved his hand. “He’s been stickin’ real close just in case any dumb shit went down. And oh look, some real dumb shit went down.”

Trev narrowed his eyes. “Cold really sent you to help me?”

“No, I just thought it would be fun to pretend to be a douchebag arms dealer,” Howell drawled. “Of course, Cold fuckin’ sent us! Wow, yous guys really are fuckin’ slow.” He shook his finger at Jupiter. “I won’t sure ’bout yous. Thought ya’ were sidin’ up with your family, but you’re tryin’ to get out too, huh?”

Jupiter glanced at Trev before replying, “Yes.”

“Okay, good! I’d hate to kill ya’. Yous seem like a decent guy. For a bastard and all.”

Jupiter scowled.

“Cute trick with the party, by the way,” Howell teased. “That was yous guys, huh?”

“Yeah, and?” Trev wrinkled his nose. “It worked, didn’t it? It gave us a way out.”

“If you dumb dumbs had just waited until tomorrow morning, we could have walked right out the front door.”

“What are you talking about?” Jupiter asked.

“Uh, hello, duh.” Howell put his elbow on the top of the real Howell’s head. “The family was gonna scoot out tomorrow to check a new location for their lil’ drug operation. Emil, Sal, all of ’em.”

“Why didn’t you just fucking say that?” Trev groaned.

“Because this big bastard wouldn’t shut the fuck up!” Howell gestured at Jupiter. “Besides, how the hell was I supposed to know he was all right? He did chain you to a fuckin’ wall.”

“Come on.” Jupiter scoffed. “One time!”

Trev stared at Jupiter.

“Okay, fine, and the leash thing.” Jupiter rolled his eyes. “But that was for the party and not my idea.”

“Bleed more quietly, please.” Trev huffed and looked to Howell. “Do you have a first aid kit or anything here so we can patch him up?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Howell blinked in surprise. “I don’t fuckin’ live here. Hey, fuck nuts.” Howell tapped the real Howell’s head. “Yous got a first aid kit or somethin’ here?”

The real Howell screamed angrily.

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