Damaged Grump (Bad Chicago Bosses)

She only looks at me like I’m some strange thing she can’t decipher.

And for the first time in memory, I’m the one who looks away first.

Exhaling, I swivel my chair away again. Not fully this time. I stop in front of the bookshelf, looking at the silenced record player. Peggy Lee’s voice has gone quiet.

Is that all there is?

“You’re welcome to hate me if you wish,” I say neutrally. “It would happen anyway. If you want me away from you—if you want to completely banish me—do as I ask. Help me expose Haydn. In exchange, Just Vibing is fully yours, Miss Landry. No corporate or editorial oversight. Full annual budget approval at your discretion. Not mine. I promise I’ll take my hands off the magazine’s strings.”

“So long as I do your bidding,” she clips.

“That’s the way this industry works, isn’t it? That you’ve gotten this far without learning it speaks for your naivete.” They’re cruel words. I need her to stop expecting me to be more than what I am. “I’m not asking you to do anything you wouldn’t do yourself if you stumbled on Easterly’s plight on your own. So accept the deal, help a young woman in distress, and be grateful that you have a bright future ahead.”

“One that you’ve handed to me. Not one I’ve earned.”

She shoves her chair back, the legs scraping harshly as she stands, her fingers trembling until she clenches them together.

Dammit, here we go.

Her anger is a silent lash, scouring the air between us.

I can’t acknowledge its sting, so I hold my tongue.

I watch her walk away from me, her shoulders stiff, the flick of her scarlet hair like an accusing tongue spitting every condemnation I rightly deserve.

I appreciate her more than she’ll ever know for holding her ground.

Regrettably, if this is going to work, if I’m going to get my way, I need her to give, listen, and obey.

* * *

Sleep was hard won last night.

Not that I sleep much as it is, but with Callie on the brain, the sandman was as imaginary as the damned tooth fairy.

That look of recrimination on her face.

That sense that I broke something for her.

That certainty I shot her pride through the heart.

Did she actually think there’s some deep, hidden hint of decency in me?

Perhaps she’s figured out now that she was dead wrong.

It’s for the best.

There’s only one shred of humanity left in my world.

It lives inside this rustic log cabin house perched on the shore of Lake Michigan outside the city at the end of a winding lane. Far from prying eyes that would eat up a story like this to slaughter me.

If they only knew, every last one of my enemies could rip me open and sink their teeth in my viscera.

I’m not letting that happen.

Even as my driver lets me off at the foot of the front walk, I can’t help quickly scanning the property, making sure I haven’t been followed or set up by someone hiding in the bushes with a camera.

Nothing.

I’m alone, as usual, save for the solitary nurse in her white uniform standing on the front porch, enjoying her smoke break.

She stiffens as she sees me and hurries to stub out her cigarette in the ash tray on the railing.

“Mr. Osprey! I’m so sorry, we weren’t expecting you today—”

I cut her off with a raised hand and a small smile.

“It’s fine, Julia. I wanted to surprise him, and he can always tell when you’re preparing for me to drop by even if he doesn’t remember who’s coming.” I mount the steps, then pause, lingering at the front door. Through the screen, I hear a single piano note echoing hauntingly over and over again. The plink of the hammer against the strings hits the darkest places of my heart. “How is he today?”

Julia hesitates, glancing toward the door.

“He’s...well, mostly lucid today. Functioning well enough on his own. No major changes. But he hasn’t made any progress in the cognitive exercises, I’m afraid. If anything...”

She trails off, giving me a troubled look, her shoulders tense.

“It’s all right,” I say. “It is. Whatever it is, just tell me. You know I’ll never fault your honesty.”

Still, her eyes flicker before she takes a deep breath and says, “He seems to be regressing again, sir. He can’t tie his shoes, and he gets awfully upset if we give him any but the ones with the Velcro straps. And he’s just not answering. Not to—”

“...to Barrett, you mean.” I finish for her. “It’s Barry again, isn’t it?”

Which means surprising him won’t matter.

He won’t remember who I am.

He never does.

When he was young enough to be called Barry all the time, I was just another big kid he looked up to.

I’m not sure he was even old enough to understand what being his brother meant.

Her face falls, and Nurse Julia nods quickly without words, her lips quivering as she presses her fingertips to her mouth.