Duncan was fidgeting as they rode down the elevator. Upon closer inspection, Mickey noticed he was sweating.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Me? Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?” Duncan scoffed. “Cold is just sending us off alone to check out the super special place where we’re supposedly having this big meeting.”
“So?”
“He’s sending you, his most deadly assassin, with me.” Duncan pointed at himself. “The guy who apparently can’t do anything right because he sends me off on bullshit errands or leaves me on babysitting duty or just leaves me totally behind!”
“Duncan, look, you fucked up at the plant. You fucked up bad. That’s all.”
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” Duncan was heartbroken, and his voice was barely a whisper.
Mickey felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“That’s what this is!” Duncan suddenly shouted. The elevator doors opened, and he continued to rant as he stormed into the lobby. “He doesn’t trust me, and he wants you to kill me! You’re gonna kill me and bury me in cement like they did with Marco!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Mickey snarled. He looked around, hoping no one was listening. Most of the staff seemed to be looking the other way, and he hoped they weren’t just pretending. He grabbed Duncan’s arm and twisted it. “Listen to me, you dumb fuck. I would never hurt you.”
“Yeah?” Duncan scoffed. “I never actually thought you’d blow somebody away in the middle of the damn street with a ton of people watching you and wow! That sure didn’t stop you!”
“Where the fuck is this coming from?” Mickey kept his grip on Duncan’s arm firm, pushing him out the front doors of the hotel before he could blurt out anything else stupid.
“Cold has been keeping me out of fuckin’ plans and lying to me about what you guys are doin’! Come on!” Duncan struggled, but he couldn’t get away from Mickey. “Everybody is talking about some damn rat, and he thinks it’s me! He is gonna fuckin’ kill me!”
“No, he’s not.” Mickey found Jules’ El Camino parked right out on the street in front of the hotel and shoved Duncan into the passenger seat.
“Oh! You’re totally right!” Duncan shouted as Mickey walked around to get behind the wheel. “He wouldn’t wanna get his pretty hands dirty! That’s why he’s gonna have you do it!”
“Duncan.” Mickey sighed and cranked the car. “Shut up.”
“Tell me you’re not gonna kill me.”
“I’m not gonna kill you.”
“You’relying.”
Mickey turned and stared at him. “I told you before that you gotta chill the fuck out. This is a definite ‘chill the fuck out’ moment.”
“Tell me that you’re not gonna kill me, Mickey.” Duncan grabbed Mickey’s shoulder. “Please.”
“I’m not going to kill you, stupid ass, but I’m about to fuckin’ smack you.” Mickey pushed him away. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I really care about you, but you are fuckin’ pushin’ it right now.”
“You don’t care about me,” Duncan accused. “You’re so far up Cold’s ass you know what he had for lunch yesterday! And Roger? Wow! You and that psychopath are just two little fucked up peas in a pod!”
Mickey was so shocked that he didn’t know what to say at first. He pulled out into traffic, trying to get his thoughts together. “You’re mad… that I’m doing better than you?”
“What? No!” Duncan barked.
“You’re fuckin’ mad that Cold actually trusts me and I’m gettin’ laid?”
“I don’t care about the sex, you weirdo! I do fuckin’ fine!”
Mickey knew damn well he didn’t.
“And does Cold actually trust you?” Duncan pushed. “He hasn’t told you what this big stupid plan is that he’s been working on for weeks.”
Mickey flinched. “He’ll tell me when I need to know.”
