"What? Do I have something on my face?" I did my makeup tonight, and I'd hate if it's ruined.
"No. No. I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead."
"Are you and Ezrah dating?"
I narrow my eyes, immediately seizing up the competition. Does Conrad have the hots for my Daddy?
"Hey, man," he says, raising his hands and taking a step back. It won't help him. "I'm happy for you."
"He's mine," I growl.
Conrad's eyes widen.
"He used to be my co-worker, now he's my boss, nothing more. Never."
"So you've never checked my Daddy out, lusted after him, made moves?"
"Hell, no. He isn't my type."
I smile at him. Maybe we can even be friends, who knows?
"Okay. And yes, we're dating."
Conrad chuckles awkwardly and ruffles his hair. "For a second there, I was worried you would stab me with a glass."
I thought about it, but I don't say it out loud.
"I'm happy for you two. Ezrah seems like a good guy, and so do you."
Only if you knew.
"Thank you, Conrad. I hope you find someone just as good as my Ezrah, but that's not possible."
He laughs and shakes his head like what I said isn't true. Whatever.
I have my Daddy and I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
After our shift, Daddy wants me to go back to his place, but I drove here, and tomorrow I'll need my car for field work. So I decide to drive, and Daddy will be following me. On the road, I receive a text message from my Dad.
Dad Killer:Sorry about this, boy. I meant what I said. And you know that actions speak louder than words.
The fuck does he mean?
I don't have to wonder for long.
At a red light, I try to slow down and stop, but the brakes aren't working. Fuck. I swirl the car, trying to do something,anything, but this is my father's handiwork, so it's useless.
In the last second, I decide colliding with a tree is better than risking hitting another car because Daddy is following me and dialing my phone. I can see him in the rearview mirror, frantically saying something. I can't risk causing a multi-car crash. Not when my Daddy is right behind me. So I swerve the car and head straight into a tree.
As I slam into the tree, glass shatters, the airbag pops, and there's a distant crack of branches against metal. Pain doesn't register even though I'm sure it will hurt like a bitch later.
As darkness dances before my eyes, I curse my father, his love for riddles and lessons that require actions that I have to figure out how to deal with.
Chapter twenty-six
Ezrah
