Page 94 of Cash

All Brick wanted to do was curl up in a hot bath.

And not just any bath, but the tub at his house. He knew it wasn’t as big as the one at Jules’s townhouse, but it was his, and he desperately wanted something familiar and safe.

Brick dozed off on the drive there. He was in the back seat with Jules, and he hadn’t realized how exhausted he was from the fight. The adrenaline had finally left him, and he was crashing hard.

Erasmus drove them with Junior in the front seat, the ledgers proudly stacked right in his lap. Junior was chatting away about what a good job they’d done, but Brick didn’t hear much. Once Jules had invited him to lay his head in his lap, Brick was fast asleep.

He thought he heard sirens, but maybe he was just dreaming.

Jules carried Brick inside, pausing to remove his shoes and put on slippers before going upstairs. He brought Brick to the bathroom and set him down on the toilet. He helped Brick get undressed, being mindful of the blood since it wasn’t immediately clear whose it was.

Brick’s head hurt, his jaw was sore, and he was pretty sure he was going to have a black eye.

But it could have been worse.

So much worse.

The fight with Roland came back in a tornado of violent images, flashes of blood and pain, and he remembered vividly the moment he had pulled the trigger.

Brick would have killed Roland.

As unsettling as that memory was, what was truly terrifying was the moment when Brick realized he wouldn’t have cared. With absolutely zero hesitation, he had been ready to take another person’s life to save his own.

“You wanna talk?” Jules asked softly.

“I don’t know.” Brick closed his eyes. “Just thinking.”

Jules turned the water on, leaving his hand under the faucet while he waited for it to heat up. “Wanna tell me about what happened?”

“I woke up, and I…” Brick sighed. “I was in that room, all tied up, in the dark. All I could think about was getting the fuck out. I got the stupid light on, and then I busted up this table so I could saw the damn rope off using, like, the broken edge of the table. I think I saw someone do it in a movie or some TV show, and I honestly can’t believe it worked. Once I was free, I was literally breaking down the door when Finchie and Roland came in. He had a gun, and I…”

“What’s wrong?”

Brick hung his head. “I was gonna kill Roland. Probably Finchie too, if I could have. He was asking me all these questions about you, he threatened my family, and something just… snapped. I went after Roland, knocked him into Finchie, and I managed to get the gun away from him. But by the time I got the fucking thing, it was empty because that bastard shot up the stupid ceiling while we were fighting. But there I was, gun aimed right at Roland, and I pulled the trigger. I had no idea it was out. I didn’t think twice. I was going to kill him.”

“Yeah, so he wouldn’t fuckin’ kill you.” Jules touched Brick’s shoulder. “Is that what you’re so torn up about?”

“That, and well, you know, getting drugged and kidnapped is pretty fucking traumatic.” Brick laughed weakly, lifting his head to smile at Jules. “Can’t say I’m a fan.”

“I’m sorry,” Jules said earnestly. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I should have just told Cutter to suck my dick and stayed with you.”

“But you couldn’t have known Finchie was gonna be there.” Brick frowned. “I mean, do we even know why he was? Did he have someone follow us from the funeral home or something?”

“Do you remember Junior tellin’ us about his mom faintin’ at the visitation or whatever? Turns out she got admitted to the hospital.” Jules scowled. “Little shit rushed over there when he heard Mama was sick. Him or one of his bitches must have seen us. I came back from talkin’ to Cutter, and you were just… gone.” His grip on Brick’s shoulder tightened.

“I’m sorry.” Brick reached for Jules, pulling him in close to nuzzle the top of his head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey. You ain’t got a fuckin’ thing to be sorry for, baby boy. Not one goddamn thing.” Jules hugged him tight, tight enough to hurt, before letting go abruptly. “Hey, come on. Let’s get you in your bath, all right?”

“You were worried about me?” Brick let Jules help him into the tub. He groaned as he sat, letting the hot water wash over him.

“Damn right,” Jules confirmed. “I tried to shoot Cutter. Thought he was in on it.”

“Fuck.” Brick had to bend his knees to lay back in the tub, but it still felt heavenly to soak. “But you didn’t, right? You didn’t actually shoot him?”

“No.” Jules slid off his jacket and then rolled up his sleeves.

“And he helped find me?”

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