Because what kind of father would I be? I’d never even touched a baby, and I didn’t know jack about taking care of anything besides my mom’s loser boyfriends when they outstayed their welcome.
“I guess that’s good and bad. Sorry, man.”
I shrugged again. It hurt more when she didn’t see me in jail. It hurt that I had only had one visitor in five months and that had been Tyler, because he’d been there, done that. He knew it sucked.
Feeling suddenly angry, I concentrated on my breathing, slowing it down, drawing it in and out steadily. I made sure my entire body was still, that nothing twitched or shook or jiggled. It was a trick I learned a long time ago, that if I quieted my body, I could quiet my mind and the anger would escape like air from a balloon instead of a firework shooting off.
“It’s no big deal,” I said, which was a lie, and Riley knew it was a lie.
“I’m going in the basement to work out,” he said. “You want to come down and hit the bag with me?”
“I thought you were going on a beer run,” Jessica said, straightening the napkin holder on the counter, stuffed with paper napkins with cherries printed on them. Cherries? For fucking real?
Riley gave her a look. “I changed my mind.”
Of course he had. He knew. “Sure,” I said. “Then I’ll see about a job afterwards if you don’t mind me borrowing the car.”
“Not at all. Come on, let’s break a sweat.”
“Sounds hot,” Jessica said. “Can I watch?”
“You can’t handle all the testosterone we’ll be displaying,” he told her, giving her a teasing pat on her ass.
“Oh, I can handle anything you’ve got,” she said, and her expression wasn’t subtle.
Neither was the flare of Riley’s nostrils. “Later, babe, later.”
I walked out of the room, heading for the basement door. I needed to punch something.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
It was Robin.
It didn’t even matter what she wrote. The smiley face at the end was enough to have me unclenching my fists.
Not good. Or damn good, depending on how I looked at it.
But just to be sure, and in control, instead of answering, I slammed my fist into Riley’s boxing bag at the bottom of the stairs and felt the adrenaline rush through me.
Only drug I’ve ever needed. Pain.
Chapter Three
Robin
“Thanks for doing that,” Tyler said to me as he drove me home. “You know, it’s cool for Easton to feel kinda special.”
“Sure. I was happy to do it.” I felt my phone vibrate in my lap, and I pulled it out, seeing it was another text from Phoenix. I hadn’t saved him as a contact yet but I knew it was him. I had sent him a kitten pic back in response to his honey badger video. Just a fluffy white kitten with a black mane of fur around its face. It was the first kitten I found when I did an online search and it didn’t actually say anything. It was just the kitten drinking from a tall glass of milk.
I opened the text. It said,
Is this you? I see the resemblance
.
Furry?
I tapped back.
Milk drinker.
Feeling like I might smile when I shouldn’t, I shoved the phone back in my pocket without responding. But I did ask Tyler, “What’s the deal with your cousin?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is he . . . I don’t know . . . nice?” That wasn’t what I wanted to ask exactly but I didn’t know how to really express myself.
But something about what I said seemed to tip Tyler off. He turned and glanced at me. “Oh, no. No, no, and no. You are not allowed to be interested in my cousin.”
“Why?” I asked, stung by his vehemence. “Not that I am, but I mean, I know I’m like a total mess and I’m not exactly hot these days but . . .” I stopped speaking, appalled by what was coming out of my mouth. And because there was no “but.” I could no longer claim to be a fun party girl, or a loyal friend, or someone with a healthy dose of self-respect and confidence. I had none of those things anymore.
Nor did I bother doing my
Drew Karpyshyn, William C. Dietz