Nothing Special (Nothing Special 1)

“Jax, is there any sign that there may have been a struggle or is there something like a note or object lying around that might suggest where he went?”

“You mean he’s not with you?” Jax asked.

“Yeah, Jaxson, he’s right here beside me, sipping a damn rum and Coke. I just wanted to ask you a completely asinine question that I already know the fucking answer to,” Day snapped.

“Leonidis,” his brother yelled in his reprimanding voice, “don’t you take that tone with me, and darn sure stop cursing at me! No, there doesn’t look like there was any type of foul play, and no there is no note that I can see. Now take a breath and tell me what is going on.”

“Long story short. I called Cash’s schizo brother on a hideaway phone that I wasn’t supposed to see or especially use. But I did. Bit-bam-boom. God’s angry brother is there yelling, hitting, scratching and clawing at God trying to kill him… and the fucker is built like a semi, so I couldn’t take him down. Then the thuggish neighbors burst in like the brute squad and all hell breaks loose. God points a fuckin’ cannon at everyone in turn, severely pissing off his neighbors. Last but not least, God throws me across the room and tells me to get the fuck out. Now I’m here and you’re telling me my partner is MIA again.”

“He hit you and then threw you out after all you’ve done!” Jax yelled.

“It was bad, Jaxson. I’ve never seen God look that defeated.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad that he had to hurt you, Leo.”

“Oh no, it was bad. It was the fucking first twenty minutes of Saving Private Ryan bad, Jax.” Day paced as he listened to his brother go on about God accepting responsibility for his own actions.

“Jax, don’t get me wrong, I’m highly pissed off with my partner. I’m pissed off to the highest of pisstivity. But I still have to know that he’s okay. That crazy brother of his really landed some hard blows on him and God didn’t fight back at all.”

“Because it’s his brother. That I do get,” Jax said softly. “But I can’t check on him, Leo, because believe me, there is nothing here to clue me in on where he went.” Jax paused before speaking again. “I must say I’m curious how he got all that heavy furniture out of here if he was in as bad a shape as you say.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be too hard to do. A lot of people owe God favors—both of us actually. If God called someone for help, they’d drop everything and come to help.” Day took a deep breath. “The same as I would if he had called me.” Day’s voice was strained from the ache in his chest and he had no doubt that Jax was picking up on it.

“That asshole,” Jax snapped.

“Whoa, big brother. Don’t go cursing away your do-gooder image. You know you’re not a vulgar-language type person… leave that for us heathens.” Day laughed humorlessly.

Day heard his brother's irritated chuckle at him for trying to lighten the situation.

“Fine. But, after he apologizes numerous times, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind,” Jax said.

Day did smile that time. He had no doubt his brother would do just that.

“Oh shit!” Day snapped his fingers at his recollection of something very critical. Why do I always forget about this? “I know exactly where he is… or at least I will in a second.” Day hung up without another word.

He pulled up his track-your-lover app on his phone. He never did tell God how he’d found him in that alley in Buckhead. It took a few seconds for the app to open fully before he saw the red dot beeping on the map of their city. You call yourself a detective, God. Pfft. He immediately called his brother back.

“Jax, he’s at the Fairfield Lodge in East Point. Please go check on him.” Day didn’t want to sound so pathetic. God had thrown him around and tossed him out like old leftovers, but Day loved him and would never want to see God hurt or in need of help but too proud to ask for it.

God was at the counter of the shady Fairfield Lodge hotel. It wasn’t the worst but it damn sure wasn’t the best. God pulled on his leather coat to try to conceal his weapons, not wanting to scare the clerk. It was almost ten at night, and all he had was one suitcase of clothing and one of his video games.

The clerk came from the back of the office and walked up to the counter, still not making eye contact with him.

“How much for a week?” God asked.

Maybe it was his deep voice or his drawl that caught the woman off guard because she jerked her head up from typing on the outdated computer to put a face with the rough-hewn voice. After taking in God’s appearance she quickly turned her nonchalant demeanor into one that suggested God could have some company in his room tonight if he preferred.