“Fuck yeah, still alive!” Roger cheered, suddenly grabbing Mickey right there and kissing him fiercely. “Mmph! Damn, I am fucking you so hard when we get out of here!”
Mickey was too happy to even care. “Whatever the fuck you want.”
“The money,” Crybaby realized out loud, echoing Mickey’s earlier thoughts. “You were keeping all the money to pay these guys.”
“Backup plan for fuckin’ plan in case Cristian didn’t wanna play nice.” Jules grinned. “Money well fuckin’ spent.”
“It’s not just the money, although that certainly helped.” Cold gestured to the new recruits. “That man there? His father is Hugo Maness, the man who gives me an apple every day. That one? His brother is a cook at the Wynne Hotel, and I recently helped his mother get a job there.”
“They’re all family,” Mickey said quietly.
“Murderers, crooks, and thieves, but yes, they’re also family,” Cold said with a smirk.
“Where do you want us to take out the trash, Boss?” one of the men asked.
“Take their vehicles out of here and drop Cristian and Stefano off at the city limits. Unharmed, if you’d be so kind.” Cold pursed his lips. “I suppose you could leave them with at least one of the cars. Perry City is quite a walk from here.”
“You got it!” The man grinned and began directing the others to claim all the Luchesi family’s SUV’s. They drove off and soon the only evidence there had been a brutal shootout was the cluster of bodies on the ground.
“Wow.” Crybaby was beaming. “It’s really over, huh? They’re fuckin’ gone forever.”
“But wait!” Mickey snatched his guns from the floor, and he turned back to Cold with a snarl. “The rat! The one who was snitching! Who is it?”
“Oh, hadn’t you guessed?” Cold looked surprised.
“What? No!” Mickey stared. “Who the fuck is it?”
“It’s Duncan.”
“What?” Mickey had started to take aim, but he faltered when he realized he was aiming at the man who was supposed to be his best friend. “No, it can’t be.”
“What? Me? No fuckin’ way!” Duncan backpedaled. “This, this is crazy!”
“He was privy to our plans to spare Mr. Ricci and to take the guns.” Cold strolled toward Duncan. “Both of which failed most spectacularly. He was also the very one who suggested Strassen Springs First Baptist Church, where he insisted all of us hole up because it was so very safe.”
“You knew?” Mickey whirled on Cold. “How long? How long did you know it was Duncan?”
“I’ve had my suspicions for some time.”
“Why didn’t you fucking say anything?” Mickey snapped.
“Because it could have just as easily been you, Mr. Tamerlane,” Cold replied coolly. “You were also a part of those same meetings, after all. You had access to all the same information Duncan did.”
“Oh, right, and I just let the Luchesi fuckers kill my grandfather!”
“I know men who have done worse things for less,” Cold retorted. “I wasn’t sure until today. Detective Carville gave me a sample of the recording for the anonymous tip that led police to the safe house.”
“There’s no fuckin’ way!” Duncan protested. “Mickey, don’t listen to him! Please!”
“I’ve heard it.” Cold continued to advance. “It’s Duncan.”
“Look, okay!” Duncan’s back smacked into one of the concrete pillars, trying to get away from Cold. “I was… I was scared. Okay? I was fuckin’ scared!” He looked at Mickey. “Please, I’m sorry! I didn’t think he could pull this off, okay?”
“Duncan… no…” Mickey dropped his guns by his sides. The hole in his chest had reopened, and he felt sick. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I’m really sorry, please!” Duncan held up his hands. “Cristian said he was gonna take care of me! He’d make sure I was safe! I tried to help you! I tried so many fuckin’ times!”
“And that made it okay to run your big fuckin’ mouth and kill Pops?” Mickey said coldly. The pain was turning into rage, and he was fighting to stay in control. The betrayal was a cancer, eating him up inside. “Because at least you tried real hard? How many more of us were you trying to get killed, huh?”
