Page 62 of Wreckage of Us
“Brother,” Sully chimes in. “I’m actually offended that you think we wouldn’t take care of this cluster regardless.”
I nod in thanks, unsure of what else to say.
“I guess we’re in business then,” I clap my hands together. “And you fuckers better make me some money because I got kids to feed and a woman to keep happy.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Puck salutes me and gets back to his computer.
All of a sudden, his back goes straight as he reads something on the monitor. “What the fuck…”
Both me and Sully are suddenly on high alert.
“Dude,” he mumbles, mostly to himself, then starts typing furiously on the keyboard. “Dude,” he repeats, louder this time. “Dude,” and louder yet.
“Dude,” Sully snaps at him, “If you saydudeone more time and don’t tell us why, Ima lay you out,” he threatens.
“They’re online right now,” he tells us without taking his eyes off the monitor. I step closer and try to read what’s happening, but it all looks like gibberish to me. These code people are not right in the head, I decide.
“Who’s online?” I ask, although, I got a good idea of it.
“Whoever is pretending to be Bricks,” Puck throws over his shoulder. “He’s looking for a hitman, but he only wants to take you out. He wants Becca alive. And the baby.”
Sweat breaks down my back, making me shiver in the double layered sweatshirt I got on.
“What the fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
“Maybe you should let Becca stay with your mom and Stewart for a while, no?” Sully suggests.
It’s a great idea except for one small detail. She would lose her shit if I forced her to leave her home now as well after she already gave up her job, no matter that it should be only a temporary move.
“Is anyone responding to his request?” I ask, still staring at the screen even though I have no idea what the fuck I’m looking at.
“Not yet,” Puck replies. “The fucker is not offering enough money for all the work he wants done,” he snorts. “He thinks this is the clubhouse and he can just throw some crumbs to a couple of prospects.”
“Answer him,” I tell him.
“What?” He turns scared eyes my way. “Tell him what?”
“Tell him you’re interested,” I order him. “Do you have a dummy account set up?”
“Uh, duh,” he rolls his eyes at me. “What kind of a wannabe hacker you take me for?”
“Is that a yes?” I ask for clarification because I don’t understand what the fuck he talks about sometimes.
“That’s a yes, boss,” he grins at me.
“Make the arrangements then. Tell him you need all the money before you do the work.”
“That’s stupid,” he snorts. “Who’s gonna fall for that?”
“Someone who’s desperate enough to get the job done,” I deadpan.
“Good point, boss,” he mutters and starts clapping away on the keyboard.
“Stop calling me that,” I push at his chair, propelling him into the desk.
“I thought you agreed to it,” he counters. “And I like it that way. I don’t like it when Sully bosses me around,” he jerks his chin at the blood brother he doesn’t know he has.
“I’ll still boss you around, fucker,” Sully jokes. “Even more now that the stress of being an actual boss is off me.”
