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“We’re here,” I hurriedly said before anything else could happen, “because you mugged Rafe yesterday.”
The pair of them stared at me blankly for a second before Beans said, “Yeah.”
My jaw clenched. I had no idea what I actually planned on doing now. I definitely did not have the upper hand here, but I couldn’t just let them get away with it.
“You hurt him,” I gritted out. “Bruised his eye and made his nose bleed.”
“Well he shouldn’t bleed so easily then!” Frank snapped, but he looked a little guilty as he defensively added, “It was an accident anyway. Beans didn’t mean to.”
Beans said nothing.
“Besides, what’s that got to do with you?” Frank asked suspiciously.
“I… care about him,” I said carefully. “A lot.”
Vince awwed through a pained breath and gave me a trembly thumbs up, still doubled over. “Happy for you, bro,” he wheezed.
“So I came here to…”
“To what?” Beans asked.
“Beat us up,” Frank blurted accusingly. “I heard the roller-skating ghoul say it.”
“I have a name,” Vince snapped hoarsely.
“No,” I said quickly, because even if that had been my initial loose plan—possibly—I was smart enough to realise at this point that we would definitely, one hundred percent lose that fight. “I just… want you to apologise,” I finished weakly. “I guess.”
“Nahhh.” Beans crossed his arms with a pout. “I don’t feel like it.”
“We can’t, anyway,” Frank piped up, his lip curling. “We can’t get into Goliaths.”
“Jesus, does that mean they’ve already tried?” Vince muttered with a shudder.
“You could give us his address,” Beans then rasped in a horrifyingly sinister voice. I felt the blood drain from my face and shook my head frantically.
“No. Just… For fuck’s sake.” I scrubbed aggressively at my face. I couldn’t leave with nothing. My pride wouldn’t let me. Dropping my hands, I gave them a pleading look. “Couldn’t you just… write him a note?”
“Are you kidding me?” Vince grated. “All this for a fucking note? My testicle is probably bruised, Daniel.”
Frank and Beans looked at each other. Beans was shaking his head and jabbing his finger at me, which made me very nervous, while mouthing something I couldn’t make out. Then Frank clicked his tongue, and Beans immediately stopped and crossed his arms with a huff.
“Fine. We’ll write this so-called note,” Frank told me suspiciously. “But no funny business.”
“No, none,” I said quickly. “Great. Perfect. Uh… do you have any paper?”
Frank looked around blankly, before bending down to pick up a yellow pool noodle that looked like it had been gnawed on. “How about this?”
My shoulders sagged as I stared at it, then nodded in defeat. “Okay. Fine. How about a pen?”
“I’ve got lipstick.” Beans crouched to pull a shoe box out from under a broken coffee table. He started rifling through it, pulling some lipsticks out and peering at the bottoms of the tubes. “This one’s a subtle nude. Great for elegant gatherings. Oooh, this one’s a lovely rouge called ‘Lady of a Midsummer’s Eve.’ Perfect if you’re feeling a little saucy!”
“I don’t care what colour it is,” I gritted out. “Just pick one.”
He finally handed one over to Frank, who rested the pool noodle on the paint-streaked couch and leaned over it with the lipstick poised at one end.
“What am I writing?” he asked, looking up at me.
I huffed. “You’re apologising for being assholes who hurt him and tried to mug him.”
