Page 107 of 23 Hours

“I told you. It’s complicated,” I reiterate, in case he forgot.

“And I’ve got all night.” Big leans back in his chair to get comfy, causing it to groan in protest. Tucking his arms across his chest, a cocky smirk locks in place, then there’s that stubborn gaze daring me to start somethin’—’cause he’s ready.

Have I told you how much I hate havin’ a meddlesome asshole for a best friend? Yes? No? Well, consider yourself told. This prick is worse than any woman. At least, with a female, you can remove yourself from the situation, no worse for the wear. Big doesn’t roll that way. If it’s important to him, he’s not only obnoxious, he’s also relentless—quite the combination. Bein’ King-Kong-sized and a national president, nobody gets to just walk away if he don’t want you to. Normally, I’m cool with that as long as it don’t involve me.

Obviously, I’m involved.

I scratch my pec to give my hand something to do. “We’re not doin’ this.”

“Oh. We are. ’Cause I didn’t pound a fuckin’ Monster energy drink for nothin’.”

Fantastic.

I open my mouth and start to tell him to fuck right off, but a slew of emotional word vomit pours from my lips instead. Everything from Niki and what went down, to her haunting me. Followed by what I did to Kit, by screwing that club whore, when I should’ve controlled my cock. Then onto the wonderful gift that just keeps on giving—guilt. I omit my childhood because that’s for my woman to know. The rest I unleash in a torrent of ugliness. He takes it. ’Cause he’s my best friend. Nodding along as if he gets it, Big remains quiet ‘til I’ve laid myself bare. By the time I’m through, I’m slouchin’ in my chair, bone tired, legs spread wide, sweatin’ through my boxers.

Big clears his throat and blinks a handful of times before words form. “Holy hell. That’s a lot.”

No shit.

I shrug, not sure what he expected. “You asked.”

“I’m glad I did. You need help. ’Cause you and I both know she’s not really haunting you. You’re doin’ this to yourself.” He taps the side of his skull, indicating it’s all in my head.

“I know,” I agree.

If I believed in hauntings, I would’ve already hired a witch to cleanse my house and the compound to get rid of her ghostly ass. But I don’t believe in that voodoo hoodoo mumbo jumbo.

“You think it’s the guilt?” he asks.

“It has to be.” That’s all that makes sense to me.

“This ever happened before?”

“Nope.” My head shakes. “We both know I’ve killed a fuck ton of people, but I’ve always slept like a baby after. Seen some vile shit, too. Never got nightmares from that either.” Not after baggin’ up a room full of dead kids, courtesy of Remy. Not even after scooping brains off the side of the highway, when a brother played sleepy chicken with a semi. May he rest in peace.

“You’re hallucinating.” A statement, not a question.

“Yep… and when I’m around Kit, it’s worse. Niki comes out for longer periods of time. I can’t focus. At work, it’s not as bad.” It’s manageable when the erections go away, but I’m not about to admit that.

“She here now?” He looks around the space as if he expects Niki to float into corporeal existence.

“No. I’m too drunk.”

Big nods as if he gets what I’m puttin’ down.

Rubbing my sore flank, thanks to my wound not healin’ as it should, I tilt my head back and stare up at the ceiling. “Niki loved me. I should’ve expected someone I cared about dyin’ because of me would turn up this way.”

“Then what’s your plan?” Big’s foot taps against the leg of the table, jiggling the entire thing.

“Bring my woman home.”

“How you gonna manage that?”

Good question.

Completely out of my element with love and relationships and all those intimate feelings and stuff, I shrug for the millionth time. “Talk to her, I guess. Ask for forgiveness.” That’s about all I can do. I’m not like Big or some of the other brothers. I’m not gonna lock her away. I’m not gonna force her to fall in line. She’s gotta want me as much as I want her, and if she doesn’t, I’ll survive. That’s what I do.

The table stops moving, and Big sits forward, his elbows resting on the table, fingers steepled in front of him, pressing against the center of his chin. “Does she know about the club whore?”

---