Page 61 of Mommy

“30 minutes.” I grunt. That’s all the time I’m giving Gavin.

Ez nods, apparently satisfied with that answer.

Leaning his baseball bat against the chair nearest to him, he walks over to the fridge, grabbing a can of coke and offering it to me.

The laughter that escapes my throat is real. This guy is a fucking lunatic, but damn, I love him.

Shaking my head no, I watch him slump down in the chair across from Gavin. He kicks his booted feet up on the table and opens his coke.

“What do you think the money is for?” he asks.

“Don’t know.”

I really don’t. It’s too much to be casually lying around in a house like this, even when I consider that it’s probably not clean.

“We should ask him when he wakes up.” Pushing his mask up to his nose, Ezekiel takes a big chug from his coke, and lets out a satisfied groan. “You think he expected us?”

Before I can answer, Ezekiel leans forward in his chair, emptying the rest of his cold drink straight down the back of Gavin’s collar.

Exceeding my expectations the cold liquid actually does its job, jerking Gavin awake.

His face pulls into a grimace upon seeing us. Fear that turns into annoyance when he recognizes me.

Odd.

You’d think two masked men would keep him on his toes, but no.

“You’re the cop.” he slurs out.

“Expecting someone else?”

He doesn’t answer my question.

“Here to kill me?”

A snort comes from me, and it’s echoed by Ezekiel.

“Naah,” I say.

“Just here to make sure, you don’t forget about the time you left your dog behind to die.” Ez adds.

Gavin flinches, his gaze snapping back and forth between me and Ezekiel.

“Might as well end it, or they will,” he slurs, nodding towards the baseball bat that has made its way back into Ezekiel’s hands.

My ears perk up.

They?

“Who are they?”

Gavin clamps his mouth shut. His hands fall from the table to his lap.

Everything happens in the blink of an eye, too fast for either Ez or me to intervene. The gun in Gavin’s hand is smaller than mine, but it still blows out the back of his head all the same. Brain matter and blood rain down on Ezekiel and me, painting the room in ugly shades of red and purple.

“Great.” Ezekiel says dryly. “I was hoping to not have to shower again.”

Wiping the worst of the grime from him, he gets up from the chair. Sitting right in front of Gavin, he got it worse than me.