Page 91 of Cold Hard Cash

Maury!

The door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall. Maury stomped into the room, leering at Jimmy. “Can you believe that prick? Tryin’ to keep me outta here. Dumbass don’t know who he’s fuckin’ with!”

The officer did not look pleased, but he made no more effort to stop Maury from coming in.

“Hey, Maury.” Jimmy gave a little wave with his good arm.

“Are you all right, kid? They treatin’ you okay?” Maury hurried over to the side of his bed, his eyes as big as saucers and damp with tears when he saw the bandage. “Fuck.”

Jimmy was touched. He’d never seen Maury look so concerned. “I’m fine! It’s just a scratch, I swear!”

“Are ya sure?”

“Yes, I promise.”

Maury reared back and smacked Jimmy on the top of the head. “You dumb fuckin’ kid! I fuckin’ told you to be careful! I fuckin’ told you!”

“Ow! What the hell, Maury!” Jimmy scowled.

“Jesus!” Dario groaned in sympathy. “Give Jimmy a damn break!”

“Hey! Fuck you!” Maury snarled, whirling around to glare at Dario. “I know I don’t know ya’s, but yeah, fuck you!”

“That’s Dario.” Jimmy sighed. “He tried to help.”

“Nice to meet you, Dario! Now, kindly fuck off and lemme tend to my business!” Maury growled as he turned back to smack Jimmy again. “Stupid motherfuckin’ mentally irregular fuckwad!”

“Ow! Damn, Maury!”

“Dumbass!” Maury seethed. “I fuckin’ told you to stay outta trouble!” A few tears slid down his cheeks, his long lips twisting into an anguished grimace as he pulled Jimmy against his chest. “I told ya’s… Fuck.”

Jimmy clung to Maury and tried not to cry. The danger of this life he had chosen was real. It was here, inescapable, and it had almost killed him. If Dario hadn’t moved when he did, Maury really would have been using that money for a funeral.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ scare me like that again,” Maury said firmly, kissing Jimmy’s forehead. “I’m gonna have a fuckin’ talkin’ to with motherfuckin’ Cold about keepin’ your scrawny ass safe.”

Smiling tearfully up at Maury, Jimmy managed a small laugh. He had no doubt in his mind that Maury would.

“I’m worried, kiddo.” Maury stroked Jimmy’s hair, patting his cheek. “Things ain’t good out there. Streets is talkin’, and they are gonna be bloody.”

“Did I really get stuck in the middle of a gang war?”

Maury snorted. “It’s a fuckin’ mess, that’s for sure. And listen, do you remember that big ol’ shiny ruby ring? The one in your mom’s jewelry box? I heard some crazy shit today, and I’m startin’ to think that ring used to belong to—”

“Knock, knock,” someone at the door said, with knuckles rapping at the frame. “Nice to see everybody is awake now.”

Jimmy’s stomach did another violent round of churning when he saw it was Detective Augustus Duplin standing there.

“Oh, just fuckin’ fabulous.” Maury groaned, rolling his eyes. “The fuck do you want?”

“I need to talk to these young men about the shooting at La Belle earlier today,” Augustus said in a professional, firm tone.

Jimmy hated that voice.

Augustus’ cop voice.

“We didn’t see anything,” Jimmy said quietly.

Augustus stepped closer with his hands on his hips. “I find that pretty hard to believe, considering you were covered in Vincenzo Luchesi’s blood. A DNA test will confirm it, but your clothes have already been taken as evidence.”