“So I just call him up and ask him for protection?”
“Yeah. You shouldn’t really have to ask, not with what’s going on.”
“Okay, I’ll give him a call.”
“Now.”
“Now? It’s fuckin’ 5:00 a.m. He’ll kill me before anyone else has a chance.”
Wren crossed the room to pick up Rufus’s iPhone, where he had left it on a table. He handed it to him. “Call. This is life or death, dude. You have to take it seriously.”
Rufus pressed the button that would awaken the phone, looked down at it, and whispered, “Shit.”
“What?”
“What do you think? Of all times, my battery is dead.” Rufus shook his head. “I never learn. If I had a fuckin’ nickel for every time this has happened to me, I could—well, buy another iPhone.”
“Do you have a landline?”
Rufus smiled. “Yeah, I do. But I never use it.”
“I assume it works?”
“I guess so. It’s in the kitchen.”
Wren went and grabbed the cordless off the kitchen wall, brought it to Rufus.