Page 121 of Tormented
“Yeah, man. She’s bringing Mack in to see you.” King smiles and shakes his head. “You two not know how to use a phone?”
I cringe before answering, “I might have pissed her off on the last phone call we had.”
“Of course you did,” he says dryly. “Might need to keep that side of things in check if you want her to let you keep seeing Mack.”
“Yeah, I might.”
He gives me a slap to the shoulder and then heads out the door. King knows me well, and he knows the only thing I love more than the satisfaction of being the last face a person sees as they take their dying breath, is my boy. If it wasn’t for that kid . . . I hate to say it, but I swear to God if Ramona hadn’t sprung that pregnancy on me I would be just like my old man. Probably be living under his roof again, too, being the son he always wished for.
Instead, I’m about to be the son he deserves, all to keep the son I don’t, safe.
King hangs a right and disappears outdoors to where Dante is currently riding an old BMX over a crudely knocked together jump.
I scan the common room, but aside from Dog reclined on one of the sofas with his feet kicked up over the back as he plays on his phone, there’s nobody in sight.
“Where the fuck is everyone?” Most notably Abbey.
Dog lifts himself up on his elbows to peer over the end of the sofa at me. “Buying shit for tonight, working, visiting, sleeping at home . . . you know how it goes.”
“Why aren’t you then?” I come to a stop by his feet and fold my arms over my chest.
He shrugs, unaffected by me. I kind of like this kid.
I don’t . . . .
“Never did like the idea of a nine to five.”
“Fair enough.”
He goes back to fiddling with his phone, both thumbs a blur as they scream across the screen. “If you’re looking for Abbey, she went upstairs.”
Punk ignores me, even when I add a growl to the stare I’m currently envisioning cutting him in two with. Kids these days . . . no respect.
You do have a little time, you know . . . .
No. I don’t.
The kid smirks as I head for the stairs. Where the hell else am I going to go? Dog can grin that smarmy fucking smile all he wants, but he doesn’t stand a chance at holding my clear interest in Abbey over me. Pretty sure everybody has figured it out for themselves, judging by the friendly words of warning I get from every which direction.
Still banging that drum, are we . . .?
Get fucked.
I hear her before I lay eyes on her. Or should I say, I hear the music she has playing in her room. Rob Zombie—beautiful choice. Her head lifts to take me in as I step into the doorway. She’s laid out on her bed, phone resting between her hands.
“Well hello, stranger.”
“Stranger?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Tempting little bitch swings her long legs around and perches on the side of the bed, back arched just so, making her tits pop and her waist appear smaller. I know how these women work. “I thought we were going back to pretending we didn’t know each other.”
“Subtle.”
She backs up a little as I enter the room, kicking the door shut behind me with my boot.
“What was with you blowing me off then, if that’s not the case?”
“Got something else you can blow off.”