chapter 23 - here for the money

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Pov: Nate (Violence, slurs/harsh swearing - TW)

Noah is staring at me like I'm the stupidest person to exist on this planet, he's probably right because after what I've fucked up with Lana, I might as well be. "Okay dude, you're in and then you're out," Noah confirms, leaning against the hood of his car.

"Yeah I got it, Hotshot, go home. If anything goes down you'll know about it, N. Alert Roman and both of you go straight to Liv, okay?" I tell him, anxiously shifting my weight from leg to leg. I look over to my best friend who looks more tense, so to ease his nerves, I pat him on the back and wrap my arms around him for a quick hug.

"I hate you for this but I got your back, always," he sighs into the material of my jacket and I nod, holding onto him a bit tighter before letting go.

Noah and I grew up together, he knows everything about me and we've always pulled dumb shit together. But this time I was doing it alone, and it wasn't as dumb anymore just twice as dangerous.

He can somehow sense the apprehension boiling within me so he speaks up, "Dude, just be careful and come out of there without breaking any bones. You're not alone, we're here for you."

 "I know bud, thanks," I gratefully say and lean down to grab the duffel bag, that's when I hear Noah's voice again, he tells me to wait as he makes his way around the car to its trunk.

He opens it with ease and pulls out something I never thought he'd have on him, my heart thuds and my jaw practically hangs open. It's a gun. A fucking gun. 

I've held and fired guns before for fun, at shooting ranges. But never intentionally at somebody. Why the hell does Noah have a gun on him, my best friend out of people? I know he has a few loose screws but so do I, our entire friend group does but not the carry-a-gun-in-the-back-of-your-car kinda loose. 

"Noah... why do you have a gun on you?" I question in my concerned mom voice as he tosses it to me and I catch it with ease. I clutch the cold metal in my palm and test the grip it has, fuck, this feels new, an exhilarating new that I should not be getting used to. 

"My stepdad asked me to stash it in my car in case of emergencies, you know, in case shit goes down. And here we have it, a perfect emergency situation that you're stuck in," he declares, and I give him an understanding nod, acknowledging the fact that his stepdad owns the bar downtown, no wonder. 

I run my tongue over the bridge of my teeth and hide the gun in the deep pocket of my jacket, shielding it away from broad daylight. I speak up with a smirk, "In simpler words, life isn't an Agatha Christie novel, it's a whole lot messier. Didn't I quote that right?" 

Noah knows exactly what I'm talking about because it's another inside joke of ours, I'm convinced we have lost count of how many we have. He smirks at my comment and leans against his car, bidding me goodbye with a hug. 

"Don't go MIA on me, Caesar!" Noah calls out as he holds up two fingers and I nod in response, waving goodbye. With that, he gets into his car and speeds off, I take a deep breath and turn to look at the house. 

The exterior reminds me of that one animated movie I once watched with Jules, what was it called again? I keep staring at the house until the realization hits me, ah yes, Monster House. I shake that damn movie out of my head and whisper some motivational shit to myself, for the sake of my sanity; You can do this, don't let them see that you're scared or uncomfortable. You'll be fine. 

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