Page 139 of Losers, Part I
“What the hell did he want?” Lucas said.
Jason shook his head, going into the kitchen and grabbing a beer out of the fridge despite how early it was.
“He wants money,” Vincent said tightly. “From the sale of the house. Fifty percent.”
“Fuck that,” Lucas snarled. “We’re not giving him shit.”
“That’s what I told him,” Manson muttered. Deep lines were chiseled into his forehead, like the weight of his entire life had suddenly caught up with him and perched on top of his skull. “He didn’t like that.”
“He threatened you,” Jason said firmly, opening the beer as he leaned against the kitchen counter and spoke to us through the doorway. “All that shit about death? That was a threat, no doubt. We need better security cameras. Clearer picture, clearer audio. And electronic locks for the gates —”
Manson slammed his fist against the wall so hard I jumped. Jojo flattened her ears against her head, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Why the fuck does he get to walk back into my life like he owns it?!”
I’d never heard Manson’s volume so loud. He wasn’t looking at any of us as he yelled, his fists clenched, face reddening.
“Why thefuckdoes he get to come to my property and threaten my family? Fuck!” His fist slammed against the wall again, leaving behind a smear of blood as his knuckles split. Then he did it again, and again, each impact of his fist making the wall shudder. Haribo barked softly at the noise, and Vincent gently shushed him, reaching down to scratch his chest.
Manson was breathing hard. He roughly trailed his fingers through his hair to push it back, sucking in his breath as he turned. His eyes swept over me, narrowed with fury, and it was like he’d entirely forgotten I was there.
The moment he looked at me, he froze. His fury fled and in its place was an expression of utterly horrified shame.
“He doesn’t get to do shit,” Lucas said. “We’ll figure this out.”
“He can’t force you to give him anything,” Jason insisted. “Not legally or otherwise.”
But it was as if Manson didn’t hear him. His throat tensed as he gulped, shaking his head slowly as he looked at me.
“Jess…” His voice was a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…”
Any fear I’d felt was already gone, brought on by the shock of seeing him like that rather than any worry over my safety. But Manson looked down at his hand, his knuckles split and smeared with blood.
He sucked in a stuttering breath as his hands shook.
“You’re bleeding,” I said, reaching for him. “You need to —”
He flinched away from my touch. He was shaking his head, looking between his fist and then back to me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He looked at the dogs, watching him with flattened ears. “Fuck. Shit, I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay.” Vincent’s voice was calm, soothing. “You’re upset, that’s okay.”
“No.” Manson flexed his knuckles, watching the blood drip down his fingers. “No, this isn’t fucking okay. Nothing about thisis okay.”
He wrenched open the front door. Lucas started forward. “Hey, Manson, come on, you don’t have to —”
“I need some air,” he said hoarsely. He looked at me again, as if there was so much more he wanted to say. But then he winced and turned away, slipping out the front door and slamming it behind him.
I immediately tried to follow him. But Vincent caught my arm before I could open the door, saying gently, “Give him time, just give him time.” He held me against him, rubbing my back and somehow slowing my pounding heart. “He’s scared. He never wanted you to see him like that.”
“Then I have to go talk to him,” I said fiercely. I didn’t know what the hell I’d say, or if it would even help at all. But I couldn’t hide in the house anymore. At least Manson had Vincent and Jason with him when he faced his dad. Whatever he was facing now, he was trying to do it alone and that didn’t feel right.
Vincent loosened his hold but kept his arm around me. From the kitchen, Jason said, “Don’t worry about it, Jess. This isn’t your issue to deal with, it’ll be fine.”
“Itismy issue,” I snapped without meaning to, but it wasn’t from anger. I just needed them to understand. “I’m not some delicate little flower, okay? We made a deal. I’m yours until my debt is paid and I meant that.Yours. But if I’m yours, then you’re all mine too.” I looked between them, trying to steady the worried shake in my words. “I’m not on the outside anymore. I’m part of this, all of it — even the scary fucked-up parts. I need to talk to him. Please.”
Jason was watching me, his arms slack at his sides. For once, that icy gaze wasn’t so sharp. Vincent squeezed me closer, leaning over to kiss the side of my head. “Okay. I get it. You’re right. I guess we can’t really try to shield you from this when it’s right in front of you.”