Page 71 of Existential
I swallow hard, not liking where this is headed.
“Maybe you don’t know him well enough to see it, but that, my girl, was a huge step for him. I love that man like blood. He’s my brother, and I’ll do anything to get him back in the right headspace. That includes givin’ you whatever it is you need to stick around long enough to help him out.” He sighs as he steeples his fingers before him. “I get you’ve got issues of your own, but I’m beggin’ you as a human being, just help my friend out before you break his heart and run.”
Life would be so much simpler if the fear of making connections was the only thing making me want to run.
“I care about him, a lot, and I don’t know why.”
Silence stretches for an age before King finally speaks. “Perhaps he’s doing you a favor, too?”
He is. But do I want him to? I crafted my cold and distant heart with hours of pain and hard work. Giving it up seems such a waste of the past three and a half years.
“I want to stay,” I admit, “but I can’t if I’m going to cause trouble.”
“You’re the only one who thinks you are.”
I meet his stare, silently reminding him of why I was in here to begin with.
“Digits.”
“Me sticking around will just cause trouble between him and Hooch. I can’t do that; come in here and divide you all.”
King tips his head to the side, and sighs. “They have beef brewin’ between them anyway. The whole Fort Worth clubhouse is coming out of a turbulent time, and there are unresolved grudges that have yet to work their way to the surface. You have no influence on that other than speeding up what was bound to happen anyway.”
“It still feels uncomfortable, being between them like that. Even if I get Digits to back off, he’s going to hold a grudge if I’m in front of him with Hooch all the time.”
“So let’s sort it now.”
“Pardon?”
“What’s Digits been doin’ to you?”
“Nothing physical until now.”
King nods. “Threats? Tellin’ you to do shit you’re not comfortable with? What?”
He’s not going to let up on this. What have I got to lose, really? I keep quiet, and the tension between the three of us would drive me away anyway. So what if I just tell King and get kicked out all the same? What difference does it make?
I lean to one side and pull the phone from the pocket of my jeans. King watches as I open the text thread, scroll to the top, and hand it over.
My heart is a living thing in my throat as I watch him read the messages, his frown deepening and the color creeping into his face as he does. The silence is eerily ominous, the anger palpable. I consider snatching it away and bolting for the gates, avoiding the fallout entirely.
But then I think of Hooch, and how leaving means Digits won. Even if the sleazy asshole doesn’t get me, he’s made sure Hooch misses out too. The exact kind of games my father would play.
I let terror reign over me once before. We aren’t afforded second chances in life to do things right, just to spit it in the eye.
Nope. Not this time.
I grip the edges of the seat to physically force myself to stay. King is terrifyingly quiet as he rises in smooth, measured movements and walks to the office door. I stay frozen to the chair, facing forward, while behind me I hear him call out across the common room.
“Hooch! Get your ass in here!”
Shit, goddamn it. Things are about to get very real. I did the right thing, didn’t I? Yeah, sure I did. Lord, I hope I did.
“What’s goin’ on?” Hooch walks in, hesitating beside my chair with a curious frown while King shuts the door.
King gestures to his seat at the desk. “Take a load off and read what’s on that screen.”
My palms stick to the leather arms of the chair, and I peel them off as Hooch wakes the phone up and starts to read. King positions himself to the right of my seat, and places his hand on my shoulder in a reassuring, and much needed, gesture.