Page 109 of Jace 4Ever
The one in the black mask nodded and pulled out a piece of paper. “This is the right address. They said the twink would be here alone.”
“Can we wreck the place?”
“Yes,” Navy mask said. “Absolutely. Start upstairs and work your way down.”
“Yes!” Orange whooped. I didn’t know where he’d stashed it, but he had a sledgehammer on his shoulder instead of the rifle and ran up the stairs with glee.
Black mask grabbed my collar. “Booze in here?”
I nodded and pointed up. “There’s a bar. All the alcohol is there. What’s going on? Why are you here? What are you going to do?”
He tossed a chin at the Navy mask. “You tell him.” He sauntered up the stairs. “Don’t break the bar, asshole! There’s drinks. I’d put money on Johnny Walker Blue.”
The Navy mask just kept staring at me until I heard gleeful crows from the first floor, over food, liquor, and destruction.
Navy grabbed my collar and jerked me through the ruined door and I couldn’t believe the condition of the hallway already.
“What do you want? Is this a robbery? What’s going on? I can give you the money if that’s what you want. There’s—”
“Shut up, small fry,” he snapped with a growl.
Small fry.
“Jerrod,” I whispered. “What the hell are you doing here? You don’t know my address…”
“That’s right, I don’t. We’re here for a hit.”
“Ahit?”
“There’s a price on your head, Jace. A big fat number. A guy contacted—the guy in the black mask and coordinated us up. He never told us a name. Just the twink at this address.”
“You took a murder for hire job? How long—”
“My first. And it’s my fucking brother. Get out of here, Jace. Run. Get the fuck gone and don’t come back. They’re going to be pissed you got away because this is a fuck load of cash, but I’m not killing my own brother.”
“Why do they want to kill me?”
“You stopped a revenge hit, apparently. Had to do with the head they left in your apartment. I don’t know all the deets. I was just supposed to be backup and make sure you were dead.”
“Jerrod—”
“Get gone,Joey. I’m not killing you. Go. Leave. Run. Disappear. Don’t come back. They want you dead. Deader than dead. They’ll kill your fuck buddy to get to you. They told us he doesn’t matter. Kill him if he was here.”
My brain finally started to kick in. I had to go. They were going to kill me if I didn’t. Jerrod wouldn’t be able to stop them no matter what—because I wasn’t their brother. They didn’t care, at all. To them, I was simply dollar signs.
“I’m going up there to give you just enough time to get out of here,” Jerrod said, turning his back on me and headed for the stairs. “You have about two minutes. Don’t linger here. Put a lot of distance between you and this place. Get me, Jace?”
“Got you.” I watched him walk up the stairs.
I ran back into the sitting room and grabbed the fireplace poker. On the far side of the fireplace, where I hoped they wouldn’t cause too much destruction, I carved a quick message into the wallboard.
Just as I was about to run, I realized I couldn’t take my phone. I dropped into the corner and stabbed the fireplace poker into the face of it.
Hopefully, someone would figure out the clue.
I headed for the door to the street just as the guy in the orange mask appeared on the landing of the stairs.
“I thought you said you knocked him out!” The gun came out and I ran. He fired, but I was gone. He came down the stairs and fired again. “Hold still, faggot!”
