“Yeah. After we finished up at the fire, me and Cold saw Marco.” Jules frowned. “Cold went after him. Alone. Said it was… personal. Told me and Jerry to come back to Alistair’s. So we did.”
“Me and Valdemar were already here ’cause we brought Crybaby,” Duncan chimed in. “We were finishing up loading everything when Jules and Jerry came back.”
“Why didn’t Thirdsies ride back with you and Valdemar?” Mickey asked.
“There wasn’t enough room,” Duncan replied. “Between Crybaby and all that damn medical shit we had to load up, Thirdsies didn’t have anywhere to fuckin’ sit. Him and Rufus were supposed to fuckin’ wait and see if any of you guys showed up before they left!”
“Ah!” Rufus held up his hand. “As I’ve already tried to tell you, Cold brought Marco by the safe house so he could have some personal time with his dear old friend. He didn’t want Thirdsies to see any of it, so he and I left. When we returned, the police had already taken the house. He told me to meet him back here—”
“Where the fuck is Cold now?” Mickey pressed, still trying to put the pieces together.
“He showed up a little bit after me and Jerry got here,” Jules explained. “He was hoping maybe Thirdsies had managed to get out before the cops came and that he ran back here.”
“But he didn’t!” Valdemar shrieked. “My boy isn’t here! He’s not here! And he’s not answering his phone! Something is wrong!”
“So, then Boss takes Jerry to go back out and look for him.” Jules gestured at Mickey and Roger. “Plus you two.”
“Us?” Roger blinked.
“We ain’t seen you,” Jules explained. “Didn’t know what the fuck you were doing. Everything went to shit after the fire. And why the fuck is no one answering their goddamn phones?”
“We tried calling you assholes too!”
“The fire,” Pym piped up, appearing like a little ghost from the basement. “It damaged a utility pole that had fiber lines. The same fiber lines that run signals to cell towers. Took out coverage for the whole city according to the news.”
“Well, fuck.”
“So, where the fuck have you two been all this time, huh?” Jules demanded.
“Salvatore was at the house with Matteo,” Mickey replied. “He’s dead now.”
“Huh. Thought he was on Cristian’s team.” Jules grunted. “Well, good. Fuck him.” He suddenly grimaced. “Was it clean?”
“No. It was messy. Lots of witnesses.”
“Shit.”
“There’s something on the news about some car crashing into a gas station,” Pym said. “Two men inside gunned down in cold blood?”
“Shit.”
“Is that all you do, Pym?” Roger wondered out loud. “Sit around and watch the fuckin’ news?”
“You assholes took out the internet and phones!” Pym threw up his hands. “What else the fuck am I supposed to do to find out what’s going? Fuck!” He turned around and marched back down into the basement in a huff.
“I’m sorry!” Roger called out after him. “I’m sure you’re doing a really good job!”
“Fuckin’ blow me!” Pym shouted back.
“Uh, hello?” Valdemar batted his eyes. “I’m so very sorry for the interruption, but we still haven’t discussed where this charlatan” —he pointed at Rufus— “has been hiding! He didn’t bother making his grand entrance untilafterHis Coldness departed withMonsieurJerry!”
“Yeah.” Jules narrowed his eyes. “If you were with Cold havin’ that little adventure with Marco, why’d you get back so fuckin’ late? What were you doing?”
“He knows something!” Valdemar insisted. “Please allow me the pleasure of wringing it from his neck!”
“I was doing as I was told,” Rufus challenged. “Cleaning up Cold’s mess! Now, all of you need to calm down. Everything is fine. We’re alive, and Marco is dead. Salvatore is even dead. This is great news!”
“Except my boy is still not here.” Valdemar looked like he was about to pounce. “And I don’t trust a foul word from your wretchedly beautiful lips!”
