After getting dressed, he came back out to his bedroom to find Junior lounging in his bed and Crybaby standing by the door.
“What is this?” Junior asked, stretching out his legs and groaning loudly, luxuriating amongst Noah’s pillows like a spoiled cat. “Mm, like a temperamental-fuckin’-pedic or somethin’? Some nice shit you got, rich boy.”
“How should I fuckin’ know?” Noah spat. He hated seeing Junior there, rubbing all over his stuff, and he made a mental note to change out his bedding. “You guys really gonna follow me everywhere, huh?”
“Yup.” Crybaby crossed her arms. “That’s what Mr. Star wants, so that’s what we’re gonna do.”
“So, what?” Noah scoffed. “He’s your boss? Are you guys gangsters or something like that?”
“Something like that.” Crybaby smiled.
“You ever kill anyone?”
“Allegedly.”
There was something in her smile that made Noah think she had.
“What about you, big boy?” Noah boldly dropped onto the bed next to Junior, making sure to stretch out uncomfortably close. “You ever kill anyone?”
“Fuckin’ lots of people.” Junior huffed impatiently, scrambling to get up to his feet. “Now just shut up.”
Noah thought he was full of shit. He looked to Crybaby. “Ever been shot?”
“Yeah. I don’t recommend it.” She smirked.
“Whoa. How many times?”
“Enough to not wanna do it again.”
“You ever been stabbed? What hurts worse? I kinda imagine being shot hurts more, but if the knife is big enough—”
“You always ask this many questions?”
“Just trying to get to know my captors is all.” Noah tucked his arms up behind his head. “I mean, that’s what you are, right?”
“Think of it like very strict babysitting.” Crybaby shrugged. “We only want your uncle, and then you will never have to see us again.”
“And then what?” Noah raised his brow. “You just kill him and go on your merry way?”
“Whatever happens is up to Mr. Star.”
“But you won’t kill me?”
“Not unless Mr. Star says so.”
“Really? A potential eyewitness you’ve all told you’re gonna commit a damn crime? This shit is so fuckin’ premeditated.”
“We still might.” Junior scowled at him.
Crybaby shrugged again.
“Wow.” Noah laughed. “He’s a really terrible gangster.”
“Businessman,” Crybaby corrected. “And he’s the best there is. You’ll see.”
“Whatever.” Noah closed his eyes. “So, you guys think my uncle killed somebody?”
“We knows he did,” Junior piped up.
