Page 20 of Obey

Fuck this. Fuck all of this. I’m so, so fucking over it.

I’m spiraling, and I know it. But I can’t help it.

I dial Silvano’s direct number, my heart racing as I wait for him to pick up.

“Maddox?” Silvano answers. “It’s unlike you to call me this early.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, my voice gruff as I try to stay in control. “Look, I can’t—” I cut myself off. I can’t go whining to a mafia boss about how I don’t want to work with someone. No one would ever respect me again. “I need Lance,” I say. “For this job.”

Knives won’t work with me.

Knives hates me.

Nayeem hates me.

At the very least, I can have someone else there to defuse the situation between the two of us—someone who would be on my side, at that.

There’s a long pause on the other end, and my heart continues to hammer in my chest.

“Lance is going to be covering for you while you take care of the other matter.” Silvano’s tone is less friendly than before.

It’s easy to forget sometimes that he’s the boss. He’s amicable, easy to talk to, and he’s usually fair.

But he’s also a mafia don for a reason.

“I need someone I can trust at my back,” I say as calmly as I can. “Knives and I had a physical altercation last night. I would respectfully like to request that another person be assigned to assist me for this job, sir.”

“I see.” Silvano makes a hmm-ing sound. “Then perhaps I should reassign your duties to somebody else entirely.”

I make a choked sound, shaking my head. “No! Boss, I…”

I can’t trust him.

He’ll hang me out to dry if he gets the opportunity.

He has ruined my fucking life, and I fucking deserved it.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’ll proceed as planned. Thank you, sir.”

“That’s what I thought.” Silvano laughs briefly. “Please remember what I said during the briefing. I do not fucking care about your issues.”

“Yes, sir,” I say. “I’ll have a report to you by the end of the day on my progress.” I hang up, desperately wishing I had a single person in the world I could confide in about this. I could never tell Carl about it.

Lance is the only person I could even think about talking to about it, and even then, I’d have to leave out key parts of the truth. He can’t know about Club Alpha, he can’t know Knives has been fucking me…

And I can’t tell him I was a fucking coward who left Knives at the mercy of the cops when we were seventeen fucking years old.

I call him anyway. It’s still early, and with any luck, he’s still at home.

“Boss?” Lance answers, sounding half asleep. “What’s up?”

I run my hand through my hair, mentally scrambling to come up with the right words. “I had a rough night. Slept on a couch, don’t have my car… you mind if I head over to your place for a bit? I just need to get over this… hangover.”

“Of course, man. Duh. I’ll let Sally know. We’ll get you a good breakfast. You can borrow our bed if need be.”

“Great. I’ll be there in ten. See you.” I hang up and take a breath. Even if I don’t tell him anything, it’ll be nice to be around somebody who doesn’t hate my fucking guts.

I’m not feeling better by the time I get to Lance’s place, not really, but I’m calmer, doomspiraling a little less. He answers the door when I knock, and I step inside. It’s a mess, as always, but I don’t care. It feels homey for it, really. Lived in.

---