“No! Fuck you!” Florence growled. “After everything I’ve done, I literally ask you for one fucking thing—”
“You ask me for shit all the time!”
“—and you totally fucked me! I’m about to lose the podcast, you fucker! This was my last shot to stay on the air, and—”
“Whoa, whoa!” Goldie held up his hands. “Slow down. What do you mean, you’re losing the podcast?”
“Sponsors!” Florence replied angrily. “I’m losing all my sponsorships unless I can pull in more listeners! That’s why I was counting on you to do the show for me! You’re fucking hot right now, and I know I could lock down some sick ass advertising if I had you with me!”
“You should have told me the truth! Then I could have—”
“Could have what? Bitched out on me again?”
“Fuck you, Flo! I had a really fucking bad day!”
“Oh yeah, how fucking bad?”
“I got fucking shot, you stupid motherfucker!” Goldie pulled out the Saint Sebastian necklace from underneath his T-shirt to show him.
“What?” Florence scoffed. “Bullshit.” He looked at the medallion, and he blinked in shock. “Wait, what? Are… are you fucking serious?”
“Yes!” Goldie wanted to strangle him. “Got into some shit after I roughed up this asshole who was messing with my neighbor. The guy they found in the dumpster? Him. He had friends. They busted up in here, took me and fuckin’ Day—”
“Junior? Where’s he at?”
“Don’t worry about him, jackass. I’m trying to tell you—”
As if summoned by his name, Day came rushing out of the bedroom. He had his headphones on, and he was holding them onto his ears as if his life depended upon it. He was clearly distraught, nearly in tears, and he grabbed Goldie’s arm. “Angel! Now!”
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Goldie frowned.
“Now!”
“Look, one sec,” Goldie said to Florence, letting Day drag him into the bedroom. He didn’t want to be rude, and he tried to keep his voice even as he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong, baby? I was sort of in the middle of something with Flo.”
“Father, God, please forgive me!” Day inhaled sharply, fighting to speak through a sob as he shook Goldie’s shoulders. “Listen to me! Please! I wasn’t listening before, I was tryingnotto listen, but now I can hear him clearly! It’s so loud, and, and I heard everything! He’s so fucking angry!”
“Who? Florence?” Goldie was alarmed to see a tear sliding down Day’s cheek, and he gently wiped it away. “Hey, hey, easy. It’s okay. He’s pissed at me right now, but—”
“No, no, no!” Day cried. “Listen! The squishy match!”
“Thewhat?” Goldie scoffed.
“Squishy…?” Day shook his head, and he cringed in obvious agony. “No!Squash! The squash match! The baseball bat! You were hit with a baseball bat! It had black stripes! I canseeit!”
“How do you know that?” Goldie frowned, and dread was coiling up in his guts. “I never told you—”
“It washim!”
Goldie’s blood turned to ice. “What?”
“It was Florence!” Day sobbed miserably. “He set it up! He wanted you gone!”
“What are you talking about, baby? Take a breath, please. Just calm down.”
“I fucking can’t!” Day’s anguish morphed into a resolute rage, and he gritted his teeth furiously. “I have to kill him. You know that. I have to. I have to kill him before—”
“No, no, wait!” Goldie pleaded. “Even if that’s true, that’s not a reason to kill anyone!”
