Page 71 of Cash

Except Brick, of course, who was left wondering what the damn joke was.

“The Finch family’s power and wealth comes from decades of trafficking cocaine,” Erasmus explained. “Drug money bought their shipping business back in the seventies, and the product now comes up the coast from Florida to a port in Wilmington. Also theirs. After it’s prepared for distribution, it’s moved west.” He tilted his head. “And then a little bit north.”

“Strassen Springs?” Brick guessed.

“Allegedly,” Jules said cheerfully.

“The Finches have bought and paid entire generations of police, politicians, and other officials,” Erasmus went on. “Passing along a simple message is barely a flex of their proverbial pinkie. So, yes, it is very likely Finchie could have set up Jules.”

Jules scowled.

“Wait, does this mean Cutter knew?” Brick demanded. “Is he a part of it?”

“I don’t know,” Erasmus replied. “If he’s not a willing friend of ours, then I doubt he’d want to betray us.”

“Why? If he’s unwilling, why would he help?”

“Because he knows we’d come after him if he didn’t.”

Brick shivered at the dire implication, and he nursed his coffee, regretting that he’d asked.

“Don’t yous guys worry,” Junior said with a grin. “We’ll get it all fuckin’ straightened out and have a little chat with ol’ Detective Cutter.”

“The fuck you will,” Jules warned. “Ledgers first.”

“Which means Finchie.” Junior slurped at his whiskey. “Mmm, okay, fine. We’ll go after fuckin’ Finchie. Where the fuck he at?”

“He hasn’t been home. Not at his place, his fiancée’s, or his girlfriend’s. Little bitch is hidin’ out somewhere.” Jules chugged his whiskey and then set the glass over on the floor. He unbuttoned his shirt with a quick roll of his eyes. “The fuck you think I jumped at the chance to grab his ass last night? Fucker ain’t nowhere to be found.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fuckin’ find him.”

“Good. Great. Now help me up, fuckers. I gotta piss.”

Junior and Erasmus each offered Jules a hand, grabbing his arms and helping him to his feet. The blankets dropped away, revealing the stitched up wound. Despite the circumstances, Brick still appreciated the view of Jules in nothing but his underwear and socks.

Junior whistled as he peered at Jules’s leg. “Somethin’ sure as fuck got your ass good, huh?”

“Fuck off.” Jules limped at first, but he was able to head toward the downstairs bathroom without any assistance. He stopped along the way to grab Brick’s hip and pull him into a passionate kiss.

Brick stiffened—Junior and Erasmus were right there watching them, and Brick hadn’t been expecting Jules to be so affectionate. It only took one swipe of Jules’s tongue for Brick to melt, and he kissed him back just as eagerly.

He’d been so afraid…

No, it didn’t matter now. Jules was safe. End of story.

Jules grunted, nuzzling Brick’s cheek before breaking away to finish his journey to the bathroom.

Brick was left licking his lips and trying to sip his coffee as casually as he could while making sure his newly sprung hardon wasn’t tenting the front of his pajama pants.

Erasmus took it upon himself to tidy up the blankets and pillows from the floor, wordlessly taking them upstairs as if he knew exactly where they’d come from. That left Junior and Brick alone, and Brick had absolutely zero idea what to say.

Junior, however, had plenty.

“When Jules told me he had a special little friend here, I didn’t realize that he fuckin’ meant the knockin’ boots kind,” he teased. “Good for you, you thick fuck.”

“Yup.” Brick popped his tongue. “I’m a very lucky lady.”

“Right?” Junior walked back in the kitchen to refill his and Jules’s glasses. “Jules is the fuckin’ best of us.”

---