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Roger snorted. “With my dick.”

“I know exactly how much money is in there,” Trev warned. “I will know if even a single dollar is missing.”

Cold didn’t seem interested in the cash. He picked up the stack of photographs first. He flipped through them, his expression blank as he paused on one.

Trev couldn’t tell which it was from where he was standing, and he pushed Mickey away. He was aware that Mickey likely only let go because Cold waved at him, but Trev brushed himself off with a huff anyway.

Jupiter finally took his seat but he looked up at Trev worriedly.

Trev flashed him a tense smile, but he was more concerned with what Cold might do with the photographs. He approached so he could at least see what had captivated Cold so, and he froze.

It was a picture of Trev’s mother with the woman he’d thought was his aunt, a beautiful Black woman with a gorgeous afro and…

Lilies.

She had lilies pinned in her hair.

The very same lilies that were all over the house.

“That’s your mother,” Trev said quietly. He’d almost phrased it as a question, but he was certain by how Cold was staring at the photograph.

“Yes.” Cold’s voice was strained. “Suzanne.”

“We can make a copy, you know.” Trev offered a small smile.

This was finally something he could use.

While Cold certainly didn’t view Trev as family of any kind, he definitely had a lot of love for his mother.

“There’s more.” Trev thought of the poster in his apartment. “More pictures. And I actually have a big poster from one of her shows too. It’s back at my apartment back in Perry City though. It’s yours if you want it.”

Cold quietly continued to flip through the rest of the pictures without responding, pausing whenever he found any of Suzanne.

There were more than Trev realized, and Cold was captivated by every image. Even Mickey and Roger appeared interested, as if they too were somehow drawn in by these previously unseen photos. Trev tried to add commentary when he could, noting that Cold always paused to listen.

“That was at the club they worked at,” Trev said of one. “My mom said Suzanne always took a few minutes before each show to, like, prepare? And they snagged that pic right before she was about to go on.” And then another. “Oh! Yeah, that one. See that big red thing in the background? It’s a hot dog. A giant, hideous hot dog statue they saw here in Strassen somewhere and thought it was funny. My mom actually found one just like it in Perry City and took a picture of it. Maybe it was like a mascot or something.”

When they reached the end of the stack, Cold reverently placed them back inside the lockbox and then closed the lid. He handed it to Trev, saying quietly, “I would very much appreciate copies. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Trev retreated a few steps and hugged the lockbox to his chest.

This had to carry some sort of weight.

The photos, Trev’s stories—Cold was clearly affected.

“So.” Trev smiled. “Does, uh, this mean my prisoner and I can go?”

“No.”

Trev scowled. “Why the fuck not?”

“I am still deciding what to do with him,” Cold replied simply. “He doesn’t seem to have any vital information?—”

“Boss Cold.” Jupiter stood, even as the action drew Roger’s and Mickey’s disdain. “Sir, please. I am confident that I have something of value that would be helpful to you.”

“Assuming you know anything I don’t already is quite bold,” Cold said icily. “Your family is sloppy, weak, and stupid. I have spent literal decades crushing them and this time, same as all the others before it, will end with more of them dead. Whether or not that includes you remains to be seen.”

“Doesn’t him trying to help me count for anything?” Trev demanded. “Come on.”