When Mickey was done with his drink, he began working on someone else’s neglected glass. From here, he could hear Jules and Cold talking. He wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping, but he did have several other drinks to get through.
“This Marco thing gonna be a problem?” Jules asked warily.
“Not now,” Cold replied. “It may be later if they find his body, but not now.”
“You got a plan for that?”
“Not yet, but I will.”
Jules grunted. It was a sort of happy grunt, as if he was gladly accepting that response. The next sound was not happy. He grunted low as he asked, “And the rest?”
“What?”
Jules waved around them.
“It’s fine. Although quite unexpected, the deaths of Marco and Salvatore are actually going to help us. Salvatore’s in particular. It was so brazen that I’m sure the rest of that pitiful family is ready to flee if they haven’t already.”
“Brazen?”
“Bold. But also very stupid.”
“Ah.”
Mickey couldn’t argue with that assessment.
“You sure you’re good?” Jules asked now, his voice dropping lower as if he didn’t want Mickey to hear them. “You know, about you know who goin’.”
“He’ll be back.”
“You sure about that?”
“He’ll come back to me.” Cold sipped at his drink. “And if he doesn’t, well…” He sighed and was quiet for a long moment. “Fuck him.”
Jules patted Cold’s shoulder. “Sorry, Boss.”
“Me too.” Cold sounded sad.
Whatever heartbreak he was holding back was probably painful, but his voice was strong once more when he spoke again.
“Mr. Tamerlane,” Cold called out. “As long as you’re skulking about in there, how about you clean up that broken glass?”
Shit.
“You got it, Boss.” Mickey found a broom and dustpan in the closet, and he moved the table around to sweep up the mess beneath it.
Jules grinned at him on his way out. “Don’t worry. He ain’t really mad.” He nodded over at Cold. “I mean, let’s fuckin’ face it. You both fucked up for the same reasons. People hurt you, and it feels good to hurt ‘em back.”
“Thanks, Jules.”
“Great minds think alike and all that.”
“I can hear you,” Cold drawled impatiently.
“I’m going, Boss!” Jules waved and through the door he went.
Mickey threw the glass into the trash and put the broom and dustpan away. He was a little buzzed from all the alcohol he’d had and figured now was as good a time as any to settle up with Cold.
He cautiously approached, his head bowed respectfully. “It’s done, Boss.”
