Ribbons Read Online Free Page B

that. I had a fauxhawk back then. He said he liked it.”
    “I don’t know what that means, but this is torture.” Thug Guy spoke slowly like he was talking to a child. “I am torturing you.”
    The doorbell rang. Matt knew this must be a dream. Nobody actually got saved by the bell.
    Thug Guy stood up and then stopped to point a deadly looking finger at Matt. “Quiet please. Or I make another smoothie.”
    He continued toward the door. As he walked, he reached around to the small of his back and pulled out a knife that had been clipped to the inside of his belt. The knife was small, almost stubby, and it had a hook at the tip. He held it hidden behind the door as he pulled it open. He only opened the door a few inches, so Matt couldn’t see who was there, but the voice he heard was chipper and confident.
    “Good afternoon. I’m looking for Matt?”
    “Busy,” said Thug Guy.
    “I just need him to sign for this real quick.”
    “I can sign. Is no problem.” Thug Guy’s grip tightened on the knife.
    A hand reached out and touched Thug Guy’s shoulder. Thug Guy turned his head a fraction of an inch to look at it, and his whole body coiled. Matt was pretty sure that was going to be the end of that hand. Then Matt’s ears popped, and he couldn’t quite make out what the owner of the hand said next, but Thug Guy’s body relaxed almost at once. Thug Guy took a pen that was offered to him and signed something on a clipboard.
    “Make sure Matt gets that letter.” The voice sounded very serious, and Matt thought about screaming for help. Then Matt looked at the knife again.
    “I will.”
    “Okeydokey! Have a good day!”
    The door closed, and Thug Guy turned toward Matt. He looked a little confused as he stared at the envelope in his hand. He shook his head and blinked his eyes like he was trying to wake himself up. Matt noticed how blue his eyes were—too blue.
    “Registered mail. Must be urgent. I will read for you.” His voice sounded quieter than before. “It is from your Uncle Quentin.”
    “Really?” Matt’s hands were tingling. The zip ties were starting to cut into his arms.
    “Really.”
    Thug Guy took a seat next to Matt, knife still in hand. He slid the blade under the flap of the envelope and gave a gentle pull. The paper cut without a sound. He looked at the knife, blew on it, and put it away. Then he pulled a single folded piece of paper out of the envelope. Matt couldn’t quite read it, but he could tell it was printed or typed rather than handwritten.
    Thug Guy started to read slowly and carefully. “ Matt . . . that is you,” Thug Guy clarified. “You know I am not one for . . . uh . . . verse ? But read this and take it to heart. He who brings trouble on his family will inherit only wind, and the fool will be servant to the wise. That is quote. Proverbs, eleven twenty-nine.” Thug Guy looked up at Matt briefly and then back down at the letter. “Then he says, Come to my place in Las Vegas. We need to discuss your future. Our fate and fortune are . . . uh . . . intertwined. ”
    Thug Guy set down the letter. It didn’t look like it was signed but he saw his uncle’s name and address at the bottom.
    Thug Guy pursed his lips. “What does this mean?”
    “I don’t know. He doesn’t talk like that.” Matt thought for a second. “I don’t think he does anyway. It’s been awhile.”
    Thug Guy peered into the envelope while he absently traced a finger over the skull on his cap. Empty.
    “In fact, I’m not sure how he even got this address.” Matt was speaking more to himself now.
    “Fortune?”
    Matt grinned. “Well I guess I’ll have to go find out.”
    Matt was starting to feel like himself again so he added, “Unless you want to pull out my salad shooter and play with that for a while?”
    “Ha-ha. Funny guy.” Thug Guy didn’t laugh, though. Instead, his fist shot out.
    Matt’s head snapped back, and a little arc of blood splattered onto the