All characters you recognize from the J/E Plum series are borrowed for fun, not for profit.

Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing. The response has been incredible and I am truly grateful.

I owe many sincere thanks to the fantastic writers; Carol, Julie and Kim, for providing me with the wonderful inspiration, suggestions and support I needed to write this story. Some really amazing editing skills helped shape this next chapter.

Thanks for reading and I hope you all will enjoy.

Chapter 2

"Ask him 'bout why he's called Thumbs!" Lula seemed a little too excited about the thumb story. It was enough to momentarily distract her from being angry anyway. Probably best to wait on that one.

"Hi. I'm Stephanie." I extended my hand, and Johnny Thumbs took it in his as he stood up.

"Call me Johnny. Say, you're a lot hotter in person than those pictures in the paper. Did you really do all that shit they wrote about you?" he asked, looking me up and down.

He was pretty tall—close to Joe's height when he stood up and almost a full head above me. He bent forward, and I anticipated the kiss to my hand. Never breaking eye contact, he turned my hand and brought it to his lips. Then, his tongue darted out to lick my palm in a snake like action. Gross.

I snapped my hand back and wiped it frantically on my jeans. "It's never my fault. Can't believe everything you read in the paper. And—Umm—there's been some kind of mistake—about the partner thing."

What was that weasel Vinnie up to? After all I've been through, he chooses now to get me a partner? It didn't make sense.

"Nope. No mistake, apple bottom," he said with a toothy grin. "Vinnie hired me and said you're my partner."

"I mostly work alone. Well, not always." I pointed at the couch. "Sometimes Lula goes with me if I need backup. If there's trouble, I call Ranger. When I'm desperate, I call Joe."

I thought of any other resources to add to the list. I decided not to invalidate my first statement of working alone. Having too much backup might cause him to question my competency and skills as a bounty hunter.

"So you see I'm pretty well set for partners when the situation arises."

"That's right. Me and my girl take care of business, and we don't need no greazy-headed go-rilla bustin' up our team."

Lula uncrossed her legs and shifted her left butt cheek up slightly as she casually removed her wedgie. She then re-crossed her legs in the opposite direction, making sure the couch was not an option if Johnny decided to make a change in seating arrangements.

"As a matter of fact," she continued, "I was just thinking we needed to get going and start bringing in the dumbasses today. Ain't no filing to do anyways."

"What do you think those are?" Connie pointed to the foot and a half tall stack on the filing cabinet.

"Hunh. That ain't nothin'. I'll file the shit outta those in no time when we get back. Right now, me and my girl gotta bring in the mean to collect some green."

"That's right, Lula. I should probably talk to Vinnie first about today's skips." I needed to find out what that ferret-faced cousin of mine was up to before I left. Striding over, I turned the knob to Vinnie's office. Locked, of course. Connie gave me a nod telling me he was in.

I knocked. "Vinnie, open up. I gotta talk to you about—today's files." The door didn't open, and I didn't hear any movement on the other side.

Maybe I should just take the morning off, head over to my apartment and feed Rex. The 'Hamster Mommy of the Year' award committee wouldn't ever consider me for a nomination. I didn't even deserve a 'participant' button. The amount of time I spent in my apartment was almost nonexistent. It wasn't fair to my furry friend that I was enjoying the perks of being Joe's semi-permanent houseguest, while he guarded my kitchen bar counter from the confines of his glass enclosure—all on his own. But bringing Rex to Joe's place would mean I was a step closer to giving up the place I called home.

It didn't feel much like home anymore, but I couldn't bring myself to give it up. That tiny, practically unfurnished apartment, laden with mountains of dirty clothes, symbolized my self-sufficient life of independence. Quiet nights alone after my divorce afforded me the time to do some deep soul searching. Dickie had left me broken and penniless. With a little help from my friends, Ben and Jerry, the realization came to me. I held all the power in determining the outcome of my future. I loved Joe, but I didn't need him or anyone else to support me, not financially anyway.

The power of the dollar reminded me rent was due in a couple days. Vinnie and I needed to have a face to face right now, so I could find out what the hell was going on and get to work. I didn't have time for his games, but I wasn't about to be defeated by a man whose dream girl was rumored to be covered in feathers and quacked.

I rapped harder this time and shouted, "Vinnie, I know you're in there. Unlock this door!"

I put my ear to the door. Not a sound. I knew it wasn't soundproof. I had the mental image of the chickenshit doing the same thing on the other side.

Turning to face my audience, I conjured up a theatrical chuckle, "H-he-he must be on the phone."

Connie glanced at the phone on her desk. "None of the lines are lit up."

"Probably he's on his cell phone," I growled and glared at Connie.

"I'll bet Vinnie's in there having his own staff meeting with some kinky Internet visuals. He's probably got headphones on and can't hear you," Lula said and licked the chocolate off her fingers.

Oh yeah? That sleazy, dog turd would hear me this time. I mustered up every ounce of energy I had to make myself heard. "Goddamn it, Vinnie! Open this door!" I worked myself into a sweat, yelling, pounding and kicking the door.

Johnny laughed. "There ain't nothin' hotter than a chick with an aggressive side."

Lula sat up on the couch and folded her arms. "Hunh, that ain't nothin'. Just wait till I bust a cap in your ass. You'll think I'm downright sexy."

Johnny uncrossed his legs and cocked his head at Lula. "Don't get too full of yourself, Rainbow Brite. I'm already half blind just from being in the same room as you."

I took in Lula's attire for the day. Her clothing was so tight; it looked like it had been painted on. She wore hot pink spandex pants and a lime green tank top. Her sides spilled over resembling layers of a soft serve sherbet cone. Her spiky hair was bright neon yellow. She was a fluorescent fashion plate. Johnny's Rainbow Brite comment had been pretty accurate.

I wasn't the first person to make Vinnie want to hide in his office. Not only was he a womanizing weasel, but he was also a gambling card cheat. One time, Mickey Gritch kidnapped him for racking up a six figure debt. After that incident, Vinnie beefed up security and turned his office into a panic room. It was easier for him to change the office rather than try to change his bad habits. That would have been like asking Bob to sprout feathers.

My patience was wearing thin—not that I had much patience to begin with. My manicures usually end up getting smudged opening a candy bar wrapper. Hey, don't judge me. I get hungry when I'm bored.

After a short break, I resumed my efforts of trying to coax Vinnie out until Lula interrupted me.

She maneuvered her legs around and put her feet up on the coffee table. "You're using up way too much energy. I'm exhausted just watching you. All you're gonna get from kicking that door is a stubbed biggie toe. Just shoot the door."

"I can't shoot the door! It's solid steel. The bullet will ricochet and probably hit somebody." The only gun capable of putting a hole in that door was attached to a M1A2 Abrams tank.

"What if you tried to shoot the handle off?" Connie suggested.

I sighed and wiped my sweaty forehead with the sleeve of my t-shirt. Plopping my butt down on the couch, I rested my head on the back and stared at the ceiling. "I don't think that is going to work either."

"Not with that crappy attitude it won't. You gotta attack your problems with a positive outcome in mind. Like I do," Lula said.

"The problem with shooting the door has more to do with the laws of physics than my determination," I responded dryly, lolling my head in her direction.

"Then think of it like a math problem. You know with the trajectory of angles and shit. I learned about that in one of my night classes. It's the same principle you use in a game of pool. Just aim the gun to make the bullet bounce that way." Lula pointed her finger past my nose. "You know what I mean?"

I didn't need to look to know she was pointing at Johnny. "Oh yeah, that makes total sense," I mocked. "I'll just go ahead and try to shoot off a military grade, titanium alloy door handle. And with your scientific, pool game theory, I'll probably put Johnny in the hospital."

"Damn skippy. Now you're thinking like Lula," she announced.

"Why shoot me?" Johnny whined. "It was her idea. Have the bullet bounce toward her."

I sat up, looked at the door and back to Lula. That would be an impossible bank shot for me. I'd probably end up nailing Connie. This is ridiculous. "Doesn't matter. I don't have a gun."

"I do," the three of them volunteered in unison.

"Ugh," I scrubbed my hands over my face.

If Vinnie wasn't coming out on his own, I'd have to flush him out, but how? The gears started turning, but the answer wasn't forthcoming. Maybe if I got up and walked around something would come to me. I leaned on the edge of Connie's desk and looked outside.

Lula's nose print on the plate glass window distracted me. Every time I saw it, I had a flashback. The smudge had been there for a few months now, and there wasn't a threat of someone wiping it off anytime soon. None of us girls did windows, and Vinnie was too cheap to hire a window washer.

Lula, Connie and I had been reminiscing about the time Lula made an awful casserole. Joyce Barnhardt took it from me and ate it. Afterward, she'd been sicker than a dog.

Joyce was the reason my first husband, Dickie Orr, was now my ex-husband. He'd allowed me to come home one day to find him polishing my dining room table with the back of Joyce's shirt. Sadly, Joyce had still been wearing her shirt, but Dickie hadn't been wearing any pants.

I don't think a lifetime of bad casseroles would make up for Joyce boinkng Dickie. Instead, I cancelled out the time she spit in my milk in kindergarten. It was difficult to chart how many times I settled a score with Joyce. She kept breaking my pencil.

Anyway, we'd been in the office, laughing and having a great time. Then Lula had spotted Joe outside leaning against his car with his hands in his pockets. Wearing a faded navy t-shirt, faded blue jeans and a vibrant smile, he'd waved when our eyes met, and I'd run outside to greet him. It wasn't until later that I'd found out Connie and Lula had been watching us.

I can still remember the conversation:

"What are you smiling about?"

"You." He tapped my nose with his index finger.

"What is it you think I did now that probably wasn't my fault?"

"Nothing. We had a lunch date, remember?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

"I was enjoying the view." He pulled me into him by the bottom of my t-shirt.

"We were just talking about the time Joyce barfed her guts out after eating Lula's casserole."

"I figured it had to be something good the way you were laughing. I didn't want to interrupt." His arm snaked around my waist, and he brushed a curl off my forehead.

"Well, she deserved it." My hands slid up his chest to rest on his shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm sure she did," Joe chuckled. He let his thumb glide along my jaw line. "They always deserve it."

"What do you mean 'they'?"

He grinned "The bad guys. Somehow, someway, you always manage to smoke them out and give them what they deserve."

I felt the corners of my mouth tip up and lowered my gaze. My face felt like it had turned about ten shades of red. Staring at his neck, I thought about putting my lips on it to reciprocate the warm feeling I had from head to toe. I let the silence linger, hoping Joe would find more nice things to say about me.

"I know it's not easy, what you do," he paused and tilted my chin up, "and I've got the ulcers to prove it, Cupcake."

I gave him a playful shove. In return, he gave me a toe-curling kiss. Joe had me walking on a cloud. An alarming growl from my stomach reminded us that it was time for lunch, but my purse was still in the office. I turned to go back in and saw Connie through the window fanning herself. Beside her, Lula had her nose pressed right up against the glass and was making kissy faces.

Later, Joe had fed me a sandwich back at his place. Once I was naked, he'd found all kinds of nice things about me. That smudge on the window reminded me of that wonderful day. The day Joe had said he was proud of me.

"So, Johnny, how do you know Vinnie?" I asked.

He shrugged. "His wife, Lucille's my cousin. Well, she's more like a sister to me."

And with that statement, I had my catalyst. I knew what I needed to do. It was time to start a fire and smoke that creep out. Vinnie was going to be one burnt weenie.

"Awww, that's sweet. Sounds like you guys are pretty close."

"She was always there for me growing up when I didn't have nobody else. She kinda looked out for me."

"I hear things about Lucille, and it amazes me just what a special woman she is," I said in a saccharine voice, making myself want to gag.

"Yeah, she's pretty great. She's like a sister to me. She looked out for me."

"Uh-huh, you said that." Oh boy, I had my work cut out for me if this was going to work how I planned. "But, I'm sure that wasn't a one way street. I'll bet you looked out for her too. Didn't you?"

Johnny nodded. "Yeah, she got chased by lots of boys. She was too good for all of them. I had to run 'em off. When Vinnie came along, I kinda liked him. He was the first guy she dated that had a sense of style."

"Vinnie's got a style of his own, all right," Connie sneered.

"You know what I just thought of, Johnny?" I mused.

"Where you left your gun?"

"No. I was just thinking that Vinnie's business is kind of Lucille's too. So, with you working here, that means you're still looking out for her in a way, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Johnny pondered on that for a second.

"In that case, I think Vinnie made a mistake in partnering you with me."

Johnny looked disappointed. "Vinnie said you'd probably give me a hard time about this."

"No, what I mean is—I think he assigned you the wrong bounty hunter. You see, someone else has been dragging the bonds office down for years. Her capture rate is pretty pathetic. I don't know why she wants to work here. She's a lousy bounty hunter. It's hurting Vinnie's reputation," I explained.

"Oh yeah?" The prospect of working with another female perked him right up.

Connie caught on quickly and nodded in agreement. She hated my arch nemesis, Joyce Barnhart, almost as much as I did.

Vinnie was Joyce's latest conquest. She used her big fake boobs on him as powers of persuasion to steal skips assigned to me. Vinnie usually caved since he was a perverted sex fiend, and Joyce was equally as twisted.

"Steph's right," Connie spouted. "That woman is always screwing around. It really disgusts me thinking of her inflicting pain on Vinnie's—reputation."

"Damn skippy. It's like a fuckin' zoo when she's here," Lula added.

The noises Joyce made, while doing God knows what to Vinnie's reputation, sounded like they were filming an episode for Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. The girls and I would take turns pretending to be Marlin Perkins and provide narration describing the obscure, beastly creatures.

Connie and Lula both had my back. They wanted Joyce gone just as much as I did.

"She's that bad, huh?" Johnny took in this information and rubbed at his chin. He was on the hook. I just needed to reel him in.

"Yup," I agreed with emphasis by popping the 'p'. "She and Vinnie are always in his office having—umm, private training lessons. But it's not helping. She really has problems. As a matter of fact, I think you should tell Lucille about her. Her name is Joy—"

All heads turned as Vinnie's door swung open. "Stephanie! My office! Now!"

Bingo.

"Goddamned bugs." Connie dumped out her pencil cup and began searching her desk.

I was surprised Connie had forgotten about Vinnie's ever-present listening devices, which I'd counted on to lure him out. She must have gone along with my 'changing partners' plan on pure Joyce hatred alone. That was good enough for me.

"Excuse me for a minute." I shuffled toward Vinnie's office. Before closing the door, I said to Johnny, "We'll continue this discussion after I go over some things with Vinnie. I'll tell him we've got it all worked out." Pausing momentarily, I came in with a strong finish, "I'm sure he doesn't want his wife, who is practically your sister, to have to come in here and bring the Hammer down—if you catch my drift."

"Stephanie, get your ass in here and shut the fucking door!" Vinnie barked.

Vinnie flinched as I slammed my palms down on his desk. "What the fuck, Vinnie?"

"Jesus, calm down, and I'll tell ya." He tugged at the collar of his dress shirt.

I plopped down in the in the leather guest chair in front of him. Normally I wouldn't let any part of me come in contact with the furniture in his office. I was too pissed off at the moment to worry about the bodily fluids currently adhering themselves to my jeans.

I glared at him with the most evil Burg stare my face could conjure. Vinnie wiped the sweat from his forehead before he finally broke the silence.

"This shit storm I've suddenly been thrown into is bad enough. I don't need any more problems with Lucille or her family. Especially not with her father, Harry the Hammer," he huffed.

"What shit storm? I suppose this has to do with the Pacino wannabe out there." I thumbed my fist at the door. "Don't bring me into your shit storm. I've had to roll in enough shit for you to last a lifetime."

"Christ, if you'd shut up a minute, I'll tell ya." He sat back in his chair and rested his hands on the arms.

Gesturing my hand with a roll from the wrist, I sat impatiently and waited for him to proceed.

"Here's the deal," he started, "JT is Harry's nephew."

"JT?"

"Yeah, him. Short for Johnny Thumbs." Vinnie waived his finger at the door. I glanced over my shoulder and hoped Johnny hadn't materialized on this side of it.

"A grown man should not be called Johnny, and he hates being called John. It was his father's name. Anyways, when JT was younger, he was kind of orphaned, and Harry and his wife took him in. Lucille and him were pretty tight growing up in the same house."

I nodded for him to continue.

"Well, JT has always been a real fuck-up. Lucille has a soft spot for him and does what she can to diffuse her father. Turns out, Harry was ready to disown him after his most recent incident. He kicked him out of the family business until he can prove himself by holding down a job."

"What did he do?"

Vinnie shook his head in disgust. "Jeez, didn't you watch the Sopranos? You don't ask guys like him those kinds of questions. That's part of mine and Harry's 'Don't ask—don't get killed' policy."

I gave him a dirty look and mumbled, "I wish you'd asked."

Vinnie picked up a pen and tapped it rhythmically on the desk. He stared off into space for a few seconds before saying, "I tell ya, sometimes, I wished I'd married one of them domesticated broads."

"Oh, I don't know, Vinnie. She seems very lovely. I think you and Lucille were made for each other," I quipped with a tight, squinty-eyed grin. "So what's the deal with Johnny?"

"Well, my wonderful wife got the bright idea he should work for me. Once Harry caught wind, he liked the plan. I tried every excuse in the book to get out of it. Finally, after lovely Lucille threatened divorce, Harry told me he'll pull his backing in my business if I don't let JT come work for me."

"I thought Harry got out of the bond business?"

"He did. But his accountant talked him back into it. Tax purposes and shit. So, cuz, you get it now? Unless you want to spend your life stuffing little cotton mice in cardboard tubes, you'll help me out on this. Nobody can survive on the wages they pay at the female products plant."

"So let him be a bounty hunter. Why does he need to be my partner?" I felt my eyebrows knit together.

"Cause he doesn't know jack shit about bounty hunting. Plus, I need you to keep an eye on him. He's a fuck-up, remember?"

"Have Ranger train him," I offered.

Ranger Manoso's special military training gave him the know-how and inspiration to open RangeMan Inc. RangeMan provided various services to their clients that result in keeping them safe and the bad guys off the streets.

As I said before, he was my mentor and sometimes partner. He has come to my rescue more times than I can count and somehow I've managed to get almost as many of his loaner vehicles blown up. Danger follows me around like my very own black storm cloud. The men at RangeMan tell me they get hazard pay just for working with me.

Ranger is a scary but desirable Cuban-American whose entire wardrobe is black. He has the ability to make men and women drop to their knees for very different reasons. I could picture him in the military pin-up calendar if there was one. In reality, his extremely private life would never allow it. He uses an intoxicating shower gel that definitely does not remind me of my grandpa. Ranger also happens to be the other topic Joe and I frequently argue about.

Ranger used to invite me into the side alley for stolen kisses. He knew how to bring out my Hungarian hormones. There were a couple times we took it further than kisses in a more private setting. Those incidents were during a break-up period with Joe. I hoped like hell that Joe never found out about it. I always wondered if he had. I know I didn't really want to know what Joe had done when we were in an 'off stage'.

"Already tried that. Ranger said he'd charge me for that service."

"That's ridiculous. Ranger never charges me for his services," I retorted.

Vinnie's grin stretched to his ears. "Pretty sure that's illegal in this state. Want me to ask your boyfriend?"

My eyes rolled so far back I had to roll my head around my shoulders to bring them forward again.

"How about I talk to Ranger? Maybe I could ask him to train Johnny as a favor to me?" What was I saying? Did I really want to owe Ranger a favor? I could ask him to name the favor in advance, so I knew right away if it would be worth the risk. On the other hand, how hard could it be to give Vinnie's rookie cousin in-law some pointers? I thought back to the perverted mobster wanna-be out front and blew out some air.

Vinnie brought me out of the internal debate. "I know what you're thinking, but you can just forget it." He crossed his arms in front of him like an umpire signaling 'safe' would. "Sides, Ranger took off to Florida. He ain't in town. I already got it all figured out. I got a plan that's gonna use this situation to my advantage and make money to boot."

Ranger and I will probably always remain friends because of our history. Recently, he's backed off and respected the relationship that Joe and I have. Joe and I have been in an 'on stage' for quite some time now. I wasn't surprised when Vinnie said Ranger was gone. Lately, Ranger has been gone a lot tending to one of his other RangeMan locations along the East Coast.

Deciding it was probably not a good idea being indebted to Ranger, the man of mystery, I opted to give Vinnie's suggestion a listen. "All right. I'll bite. What's your plan?"

"Ok, here's what's going to happen. You're going to take JT with you for a few weeks or so to every apprehension. He will think," Vinnie made quotes with his fingers, "that you are his partner. But actually, you're training him to work solo. I need you to make sure he knows the ins and outs of skip apprehension. Start out by teaching him what not to do. You're good at finding trouble and covering your tracks."

"What do you mean by that?" My eyes shrunk to slits boring holes into him.

"Nothing. Anyway, once he gets the hang of it, you're off the hook. I can set him up to take over the riskier ones you pass over to Ranger at a lower payout. This is going to save me a shit load of money."

"You put a lot of thought into this, huh Vinnie?"

"Yep," he boasted.

"Ranger's not going to like it if you replace him."

"I ain't replacing him, dummy. I'm taking the shit off his hands you should be doing if you had the balls. I still need him for the high stake bonds. Ranger will probably thank me. I'll bet he spends more money than he makes on the mid-level skips. The only reason he's taking the piss-ant shit is on account of you. So you don't feel bad."

"He told you that?"

"No. That's just my personal speculation. Before you came along, he wouldn't even look at a file that was less than four figures. Now he takes anything you pass on."

I was insulted by Vinnie's comment—I think. I wasn't sure what to think about Ranger's change in policy with taking on lower FTA bonds. I wasn't aware he had refused those kinds of skips before I came along. Did I really want the balls it took to bring in some of the creepy, mid-level scumbags Ranger handled? Nope. For sure not by myself. However, if I had the proper back-up, I could take on those mid-level skips. I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me. I definitely didn't want to have to rely upon Ranger's help for the rest of my life either. I could use this situation to my advantage as well. I have a business degree for cripes sake.

"What's in it for me?"

Vinnie had already admitted he planned to have a surplus of income. I would be doing all the base work. Plus, from my brief encounter with Johnny, he did not come across as an honors student. It could take more than a few weeks to get him trained, maybe even months. Why shouldn't I be entitled to hazard pay for working with Johnny?

"What do you mean? You get to keep your job. That should be incentive enough right there."

"I have a standing offer to work searches and distractions for RangeMan. You're going to have to come up with something better than that."

He shot me a smirk. "Your boyfriend won't mind you working under Ranger?"

I ignored his innuendo. "Nope. Joe trusts me. He's confident enough in our relationship for me to make my own choices."

I hoped Vinnie didn't pursue that aspect further and call my bluff. Joe would shit an eggplant if I went to work for Ranger full-time. He trusted me. Joe didn't trust Ranger.

"So what's your offer?"

"I don't know. What were you looking for?" He threw the ball back in my court. Perfect.

"While I'm training Johnny, I get to keep all the money I make. It's only fair since I'm not charging you for the service of training him."

"He's gonna want to be paid. I can't afford to take that kind of hit. Where do you think that money's gonna come from?"

"You'll figure it out. Take it from your sex fund." He screwed up his face at me, but didn't say no. Jesus, how much did he have in that fund?

"Next, I want a percentage of the FTAs he brings in once he's solo, as a seniority fee. I'll settle for ten percent."

"You said that you weren't charging to train him," he spat while waving his arms.

"I'm not. A seniority fee is different. It includes the added prevention of Lucille finding out about Joyce." I was playing hardball now.

"That's blackmail!" He stewed for a full minute before breaking down. "I'll go five percent."

"Seven."

"Deal." He held out his hand for a handshake. I remembered what Lula said about him meeting with his staff in private and declined.

"I'm good. There is one last thing though." I was on a roll.

"What? You want to take the fillings outta my teeth, too?"

"No. Don't be so dramatic. I want to use Johnny from time to time. You know, to team up with me and Lula when we need some muscle."

"Sure. I actually like that one." I think I saw smoke puff from his ears as the wheels turned.

"Of course, I'll still want my seven percent of his take," I threw in quickly.

"Shit. Are you done now?"

"Yep. I'm good."

I had negotiated a great deal. Maybe I'd be able to get a decent set of wheels or take a well deserved vacation with Joe. We'd go someplace warm and sunny, where I could sit on a lounge chair with one of those fancy umbrella drinks in a coconut. We could have our own private beach. Joe could rub suntan lotion on my back. Not wanting my legs to burn, he'd rub lotion on my calves. Making slow circles, his hands would slowly move up my thighs. He'd hook his thumbs in my bikini bottom and—Argh!

Thumbs.

Damn, fantasy ruined.

"Earth to Steph." Vinnie was waving his hand in front of my face. "You're my cousin for Christ sake. Jesus. Quit moaning like that. Unless—wait, how are we related again? I'm willing to face a little shame if you are."

"You're sick, Vinnie. You're worse than scum. I think I'll need therapy now or something after hearing that."

"Whatever. If you're through bleeding me dry, get the fuck back to work."

I walked out of Vinnie's office and stopped right in front of Johnny, "Tell me about your skills, partner."