Page 55 of The Friend Zone
Dana led Omar over to the bar and rinsed the blood off his hand. His knuckles were red and the skin broken in multiple places. She glanced over at his mother and Athena helping Cole to his feet.
Dana retrieved the first aid kit and quietly tended to Omar’s cuts. When she finished, she placed a bag of ice on his damaged hand.
Omar stared at the ice, an unreadable expression on his face. Cole had stolen the night’s joy and hurt him deeply, and she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to make him feel better.
Dorothy came over and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him out of his trancelike state. “We’re going to take Cole to the hospital. Pumpkin, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I…” At a loss for words, she shook her head and blinked back tears.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Omar told her.
“From what Cole said, maybe I do. The reason you two haven’t been close is clearly my fault.”
“He’s an asshole, excuse my language. Nothing he said excuses what he did.”
She nodded but continued to look distressed.
“Go, Ma. Take him to the hospital.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yes. Dana’s here.”
Dorothy smiled briefly and then she and Athena guided Cole to the front door. On the way out, Athena looked over her shoulder at Omar, her brow wrinkled and the shame of what she’d done clear on her face.
Senior approached. “Son, I hate to leave, but—”
“It’s okay, Pop. Ma needs you.”
“You need me too. I’m in shock, so I know you must be.” He ran a weary hand across his brow.
“I’ll be fine. I need to stay and help clean up this mess and then lock up. I’ll call you guys tomorrow.”
“All right, well…” He hesitated, waving his hands in the air as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “Dana, take care of him.”
“I will,” she promised.
After they left, Dana cupped his jaw. “I know it’s hard right now, but you’re going to be okay. You’re Omar Motherfucking Bradford.” She smiled at him, hoping the teasing and the memories would temporarily ease the pain.
“That’s me,” he said dully, and her heart broke. She couldn’t begin to imagine the crushing sense of betrayal or hurt he must be suffering under, learning he’d been the victim of years of lies. His bond with Prince, whom he thought was his son—his mini-me—was now tainted.
Omar straightened his shoulders and rotated his neck. “I need to clean up this mess.”
He walked out from behind the bar to survey the broken dishes on the floor.
“I’ll get the broom and dustpan,” Dana said.
“No, you’ll sit down and rest. You’ve done enough tonight.”
Dana rested her hands on her hips. “Last week you told me we were partners. Are we partners or not?”
He laughed, but the sound was broken and pained. “I know better than to argue with you. We’re partners.”
“Okay then. So as long as you’re here, I’ll be here. Let’s get to work.”
* * *
Omar satin Dana’s living room with his head resting against the back of the sofa. He stared up at the ceiling, mind running a hundred miles a minute. He thought about his brother and Athena and wondered if they were still screwing around. He thought about Prince, and his heart ached.
He saw his little face when he tucked him into bed at night, his excitement when they played football together, and the way he repeated words Omar said, including dirty ones he shouldn’t say at all. He’d always considered their bond unbreakable, despite his reservations when Athena first told him she was pregnant.
