Bad Wolf (Wild Men 4) - Page 139
Damn.
“Hey.” I draw the smoke into my lungs, let it out into the cold, dark night. “What’s up?”
“Rett.” Her warm voice floats down the line to me, and it makes my chest tight and my dick hard. It’s always that way with this girl. “Didn’t see you leave the hospital earlier today.”
“You were inside with your sis. Didn’t wanna intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding.”
“Tell that to the nurse,” I mutter.
“She didn’t let you in?”
I shrug, mostly to myself. “I had to run, anyway. I was late for work.”
“I’m sorry. That’s because of me.”
“Don’t be. I wanted to be there with you.”
And that’s the truth.
“You’re not coming over tonight, either?”
“I don’t think I’ll make it.” I stick my cig in the corner of my mouth, grab my glass and toast the emptiness outside.
Not a good idea for her to see me the way I am tonight.
“How are you?” she whispers.
I almost laugh. Oh, you know… Seb punched me when I suggested we leave the gang, called me a traitor and a pussy. I punched him right back, and we ended up all bruised and bloody on the floor, but it changed fucking nothing.
Then I’ve been calling around for jobs but haven’t found anything yet. Gus made good on his promise to make my life hard, and there’s rent to pay.
And Mom hasn’t been responding to the medication they gave her.
“Okay,” I tell her. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound like it. How was work?”
I choke on the smoke and start to cough.
“What
happened, Rett?”
Ah fuck it. “I got fired.”
Her sharp intake of breath strikes me as funny. Maybe because she finds this so terrible, when it’s just par for the course for me. I dunno.
I swallow the rest of my scotch, give the fucking world another salute and slam the glass back down on the counter. “It doesn’t matter.”
That’s what I tell myself, too. It doesn’t fucking matter.
“Was it because you stayed with me at the hospital all day?” she asks. “Did they fire you just because you were late one time? That’s not fair.”
“Nothing’s fair in life, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.” She’s quiet, and I can picture her chewing on her lip and twirling a lock of hair on her forefinger.
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