Cold knew Mickey didn’t have any other living relatives, and he mused, “A hotel perhaps. Under a pseudonym.”
“I know a place.” Duncan hesitated. “It’s still in the city, but it’s off the Luchesi family’s radar.”
“Where?”
“Strassen Springs First Baptist. The basement used to be a soup kitchen and a homeless shelter. There’s plenty of beds and shit, kitchen still even works.”
Cold looked to Jules.
“Went ass up when the city cut the fundin’ for the shelter,” Jules rumbled. “Church has been closed for a while. I know it.”
“Yeah?” Mickey glanced between them. “It’s safe?”
Jules shrugged.
That wasn’t very reassuring.
“I swear it’s legit,” Duncan replied. “Nobody uses it now.” He perked up. “We can totally hide out there. All of us. We could move everybody outta here. All the Gentlemen, Crybaby’s lady—”
“No.” Cold frowned.
“But Boss! We’re gonna be right on top of each other here. We can’t stay here forever. That church has got so much room—”
“Take Mickey’s grandfather and only him. Go. Quickly.”
“Let’s go.” Mickey was already headed to the back door. “We’ll be back soon.”
“Be safe,” Cold said, waving farewell. “Call if you see any sign of the Luchesi family.”
“You got it, Boss.”
“Hey.” Roger stopped Mickey and grabbed his arm. “Watch your ass, okay?”
Their eyes met, and Mickey’s stomach felt light. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. You too.”
“Can’t fuck me if you’re dead.”
Mickey almost kissed him.
He and Duncan took the stolen car, rolled down all the windows, and drove on over to Mickey’s apartment. His piece of shit sedan was still at whatever remained of Slick Rick’s, and he had no idea if it had even survived the fire.
He wasn’t gonna go poking around there to find out.
“You’re taking a fuckin’ shower as soon as we get there,” Mickey ordered.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Duncan was staring out the window, and he was suddenly quiet. He was never this quiet.
“You really okay?”
“Yeah. I’m great.” Duncan forced a fake smile. “Spent a night in some stinkin’ sludge, Boss doesn’t wanna listen to my ideas, and oh! Had my best friend call me a fuckin’ coward.”
“What the fuck do you want me to say?” Mickey scowled. “Cold is actin’ suspicious of everybody now. I was tryin’ to fuckin’ help!”
“By calling me a coward.”
“If the shoe fuckin’ fits,” Mickey mumbled.
“Fuck you!”
