What started with a random number (BXB) (GAY)

Confrontation

Emory glanced at Stephen before speaking. "What do I do about Red? Do I, like, confront him about it? Call him out? Turn him in? Ignore it?" 

Stephen chuckled slightly as he adjusted his position on the couch, leaning back. "Uh, I say you call him right now and tell him to come over. Talk it out in person," Stephen answered with a slight shrug of the shoulder. 

Emory blankly stared at Stephen for a few seconds. "Yeah, so he can shoot me, great idea," He rolled his eyes. 

"I doubt he'd shoot you, dude. He obviously gives a shit about you," Stephen responded, shaking his head slightly. 

"But now I know his secret or whatever. I don't think he wants anyone to know that. He probably thinks I'll turn him in or some shit," 

"Bro, just call him up and invite him over. Unless you're scared?" 

Emory paused for a few seconds, weighing his options. "I'm not fucking scared. I'll call him right now," 

"Do it then," 

"I am," Emory concluded, pulling up Red's contact on his phone. He hesitated for a few seconds before pressing the call button and holding it up to his ear. 

Within a second, he answered.

"About fucking time," Red immediately said. 

Emory took a deep breath before saying something back. 

"I know," He stated simply, leaving it to Red to figure out what he meant. 

There was silence on the other line. 

"Know what exactly?" Red responded, his tone firmer. 

"I know that- that, um, you're the, um," He stuttered, struggling to speak. "Mafia," He bluntly said. 

There was another silence, so Emory spoke again. "Come over," He asked in a demanding way. "But don't kill me," He added. 

"Kill you? Sure, I may be a fucking mafia boss, but I'm not gonna kill you just cause you know. You were gonna find out sooner or later. I'm surprised it took you this long," Red replied. 

Even though he wasn't sure that Red meant what he said, he was slightly comforted by it. 

"I'm coming over now, see you soon, Em," 

Red then hung up the call, and Emory exhaled slowly, turning to Stephen. 

"So, do you want me to leave, or?" Stephen asked, motioning toward the door. 

Emory immediately shook his head. "Hell no. You're staying here, dude." 

Stephen grinned. "Yeah, so if he pulls a gun on you--" 

Emory cut him off abruptly. "That's not helping." 

After what felt like forty hours of waiting, there was knocking on his door. Emory reluctantly got up and made his way over, taking a deep breath before opening the door. 

Red was standing outside, and as soon as the door opened, his expression softened. 

Emory looked down and moved out of the way, allowing Red to enter. He didn't look up. 

Red stopped in front of Emory, waiting a few seconds before speaking. "How'd you find out?" He asked, fully focusing his gaze on Emory. 

Emory took another deep breath and looked up at Red, making eye contact. "Uh, cops showed up at my place and asked if I knew who you were. I said- I said no though, so, um, yeah. But I asked why, and they told me that you were, um, a mafia boss,"