Page 95 of Existential
THIRTY-EIGHT
Dagne
“When were you going to tell me you were going away for a few days?” I hit Hooch with the hard questions the second he shows his face in Beth’s room.
He glances between myself, and Murphy where he sits watching over a snoozing Beth. She put up a brave face, but the minute we got ourselves cleaned up she curled under a blanket and was out like a light.
“I was coming to tell you as soon as I had the bike ready.”
“So I had no time to protest, right?”
Murphy stands, dusting his hands on his legs. “Excuse me.”
Hooch and I wait, watching as he leaves the room, pulling the door quietly behind him. I check Beth, but she hasn’t even stirred.
“It’s club business, Dee. It hasn’t got a thing to do with you.”
I shake my head turning for the window. We don’t fit together. Any misconceptions I had about us managing to make this work have only been brought to light.
“Everything this club has done since Digits brought me back here has had something to do with me in one way or another. Admit it.”
“Not true.”
“How?”
He sighs, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Like I said—”
“Club business.” I nod tightly. “I get it. Little women can’t handle the truth, right? It’s why this goddamned boy’s club keeps their women folk in the dark?”
“There you go,” he snaps, “making presumptions about shit you don’t understand.”
“I’m trying, Hooch. I really am. But when you keep asking me to stay, and all that means for me is lies upon lies, and abuse upon abuse, then tell me, why the hell would I want to stick around anymore?”
“So that’s it? I’m not enough?” He crosses his arms; eyes narrow slits as he scowls at me.
“I never said that.”
“Sure feels like you meant it.”
I spin and stalk toward him, taking him by surprise. “Then give me enough. Stop shutting me out, and packing me away for later. I’ve barely seen you since we got back here.”
“Because I’m the president,” he growls. “It’s my job to be busy, takin’ care of everyone else before myself.”
“Before me,” I correct.
He huffs a heavy breath, hanging his head. “I’ve been on my own for so long the habits are hard to break.”
“I don’t doubt that, but you haven’t had somebody to ignore in the past if what you say is true, so it shouldn’t be a habit to begin with.”
“I don’t ignore you.”
“You don’t make any time for me, either.” I step up to him, resting my palm over his racing heart. “This”—I press harder with my hand—“tells me you care.” I drift my hand upwards, resting my fingertips on his bottom lip. “But I need to hear it from here.”
“I guess I’m still worried that if I share it all, then I’ll lose it all when you leave.”
“I’ll leave if you don’t share it all.” I shake my head, moving my hand back to his chest. “I can’t be held at arm’s length all the time.”
His dark eyes hold mine captive as he searches my gaze for something. Whatever it is, he doesn’t find it. His brow furrows and he steps out of my reach with a huff.