Page 72 of Cash

“You work with him in Strassen?” Brick figured that was a safe way to confirm Junior and Erasmus as fellow criminals.

“Nah, me and Raz are from Moultrie,” Junior replied. “Just a little ways down the fuckin’ road. We work for Mr. Alistair Star, a businessman.”

“He’s not a gangster?”

“Careful there, beefy sweetness,” Junior crooned. “Just because you showed Jules the wonders of your ass palace don’t mean I trust you.”

“Who says I didn’t let him party in my ass palace?” Jules said, smirking as he strolled back in.

“Maybe yous fuckin’ did.” Junior cackled and offered Jules his refilled glass. “But all’s I’m sayin’ is some certain things are on a need to know basis.”

“Sorry.” Brick held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t realize I was asking super top secret questions.”

“Ha.” Jules sipped his whiskey. “What did you ask?”

“Whether or not Alistair Star was a gangster.”

“Ah. He’s a businessman.” Jules kissed Brick’s cheek. “And an old friend.”

“Okay. Fine. Got it. No questions about Mr. Star.” Brick smiled. “How about questions about the Finch family?”

“Whatcha wanna know?” Jules tried to bend down to grab his discarded clothes, hissing softly in pain.

“Hold on. Let me get that.” Brick picked up the clothes. “Go take your ass to the couch and sit down before you fall down.”

“Excuse me?” Jules scoffed.

“You heard me.” Brick tossed the clothes up on the counter with the boxes. “Now, I don’t know if you want to keep a suit with no pants, but we can figure that out later. After you sit down and let me get you some clothes.”

“Hey, keep on bossin’ me around and see what it gets you,” Jules warned playfully. “You ain’t gonna like it.”

“Doesn’t look like it’s gonna get me much of anything right now, so I’m not really that worried,” Brick teased back. “Do you want me to come carry you to the couch? Maybe get a wheelchair?”

“Uh-huh. Keep it up, smartass.” Jules grinned slyly. “Think you can run that pretty mouth and help me to the couch at the same time?”

“Of course. One sec.” Brick finished his coffee to drown out how close he’d been to saying Daddy. He took Jules’s arm to lead him to the sofa, loving how Jules was smiling at him.

“Fuck, yous guys are so damn cute I wanna puke all over myself,” Junior cooed. “It’s like a big ol’ fuckin’ fuzzy unicorn just shit out a litter of kittens.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jules groaned as he flopped down into the cushions. “Fuck off, Junior.”

“Do you need anything?” Brick asked, rubbing Jules’s shoulder. He watched Jules go to town on his whiskey. “More booze?”

“Yeah. Thanks, baby.”

Junior met Brick halfway with the bottle, and Brick turned around to refill Jules’s drink. “Probably need to eat something, you know.”

“Mm.” Jules’s eyes lit up.

“Flying Biscuit?”

“Motherfuckin’ Flying Biscuit.”

They ordered breakfast for everyone, and the conversation took a more lighthearted turn. Junior gave Jules updates about people Brick didn’t know, friends with crazy names like Crybaby and Odie. Jules shared news from his family in Strassen, let Brick help him into a new pair of sweats and a T-shirt so he wasn’t lounging around in just his underwear, and he also stole all the apple butter.

Erasmus had declined anything to eat and chose to stand in the corner, watching the door and glancing out the window occasionally.

When Jules was finished licking the last container of apple butter clean, Brick decided now was as good a time as any to ask. “So, Mr. Star is off-limits, but the Finch family?”

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