Theo
Leaning back in the booth of a fairly nice breakfast place, I propped my head in my arm and watched Illya scan the menu. She seemed thinner than before her shower, but that could just be her tank top. An apology clung to the backs of my teeth, but I had a little bit of an issue getting it farther. Her fanny pack hugged the edge of the table, she’d washed her face free of green and dried tears and sweat, and my eyelid twitched before I lowered my arm to clear my throat.
“Just so you know, I didn’t sit around your apartment all night. I’m notthatdense.” Pretty, light green eyes,realeyes, met mine over the rim of her menu, and Illya arched a thin brow quizzically. “You said your parents lived in Mexico, right? What’d they do?”
“Uh . . . my mom worked for the U.S. government, and my dad was a stay-at-home father.” Reluctance seeped into her tone as curiosity sparked in my chest, and I reached to rub my wrist under the table. I’d tried not to fuck up my parking job, but I didn’t want to find a spot farther away.And they say chivalry is dead.“I lived in Mexico for about two years, and I learned the language really fast. We came back to the States when I was eleven.”
“Did it suck moving around like that?” Her thick, pink lips thinned, eyes diverting to the menu, and my own narrowed on her as I propped my elbow on the table to hold my chin. “Did your parents drag you around a lot?”
“Yeah, but at least they were alive.”Aw, fuck.The bland reply tightened my chest as Illya clearly shut down the topic, and I clenched my jaw hard. Long, nimble fingers raked through her hair to pull it over her shoulder, and my gaze followed the movement. Despite all the dye, Illya had beautiful, bouncy curls that I just wanted to wrap my fist in, and I tapped my cheek absently.
“Were you an only child?” Shrewd eyes flashed hazel when she shot me a glare from over her menu, and I struggled not to frown. “I just wanna know.”
My stubble bristled when Illya closed her menu with a softflopand set it on the table. Slumping into the seat, she gazed at me with frustration changing the color of her eyes, and I scratched my cheek as prickles shot up my arm. Clear as day, she was debating whether or not to chew me out about asking questions, but I wanted to fucking know. That’s not a crime. Inhaling through parted lips, she exhaled through her nose before sitting up and clasping her hands on the table to cast me a stern look.
“I wasn’t, but I am now. Can we not talk about this? Actually, let’s not talk about anything at all, okay? I really, really,really— and I cannot stress this enough, Theo— don’t wanna talk about myself.” Gesturing between us, Illya frowned deeply in displeasure, and apprehension gripped my heart in a vice. “I came out to breakfast with you because you wouldn’t let me not. You know where I live. You know where I work. You obviously don’t give a fuck about hurting me because you’re using your guilt as an excuse to do the exact opposite of what I want, which you clearly don’t care about, either. I’m gonna eat, but that doesn’t mean that whatever you want to happen is gonna happen.”
The thick muscles in my back tensed and released sharply as anger struck my chest like lightning, but I forced myself to take a huge breath and hold it. Craning my neck, I rolled my shoulders in a semi-successful attempt to shirk off the sting of Illya’s calm declaration. Her half-hooded eyes glimmered with weariness like she expected me to jump across the table to strangle her or something.
She held my gaze firmly, and I exhaled slowly before even thinking of trying to open my mouth.
“You’re not gonna give up, are you?” Truth be told, I thought that if I was just persistent enough, Illya would cave. Obviously, I was wrong, and she shook her head quietly across the table as I rubbed my cheek and neck with my good hand. “At the club, I didn’t get the impression that you were so strong-minded.”
“Because it’s my job to listen to drunk guys complain about their wives and sit on their lap, not give my opinion.” I only grunted at that, and Illya’s frown darkened under furrowing brows as I sat back to keep my knee from banging against the table. “I’ve told you half a dozen times, Theo, I’m dealing with my own shit. I don’t need anything more piled on.”
I opened my mouth, but my words never rolled off my tongue when my phone began to trill shrilly. The only numbers I had in the new device were Mateo’s and my favorite pizza place, and I scowled as I fished it from my pocket. A childish disappointment hit me when I saw it was my boss. There was always the hope that, somehow, I’d won free pizza for life. Inhaling a steadying breath, I swiped the Accept button and slumped deeper into the booth.
“What?” Mateo had been insufferable since nabbing Sylvie, and she still hadn’t come down from that high we’d found her in. He strapped her to a bed and left her with a doctor to throw a fit about her that lasted all night, and I was honestly on the verge of shooting her myself. “I’m busy, Mateo. Make it quick.”
“Find me Sylvie’s roommate and bring her here—now.” His snarl into the phone rang in my ear, but Mateo didn’t intimidate me. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up at his demand, and I sat up stiffly as the line crackled ominously. “I need to ask her some questions.”
“The fuck do you want her roommate for? Sylvie’s so fucking high she hasn’t even started withdrawal yet. I know you want to cling to the hope that things will be fine, Mateo, but they won’t be. I fucking guarantee you.” Frustration of my own sharpened my tone, but Mateo’s frosty silence didn’t deter me. My gaze flickered to Illya, and worry bled into her eyes as I covered my mouth to hide my sneer. “I’m not doing that. You don’t honestly think the drug use is inconsequential and you’ll get lucky? Bullshit. Accept the fact that you knocked up a drug addict and shoot her already.”
“Do it, Theo, or I’ll shootyou.” Snorting roughly, I ignored the questioning glance Illya sent me as pure, undiluted amusement bubbled up in my chest. I couldn’t help myself as I chuckled darkly, and Mateo’s threat breezed through my mind with all the force of a bug being blown against a window.
“You can try that shit with your little cronies, Mateo, but you don’t scare me. You’re an immature little shit— doing what you’re doing just proves that.” Mateo was a spoiled brat, finding himself in a position of power because his brother was the head of the whole thing. It was really a shame because I’d met his brother—Carlylewas the guy to be afraid of. A threat from him would make me run for the hills and not look back. “If you ever threaten me again, Mateo, I’ll break your fucking neck.”
I hung up, consequences be damned, because, frankly, Mateo was starting to get on my nerves. Sliding my phone toward the wall, by the syrup and salt and pepper shakers, I crossed my legs under the table to lean back with a heavy sigh. Illya was quiet, her face pensive across the vast expanse between us, and I waited for her to say something. The longer the silence stretched, the more troubled her expression became, and I couldn’t imagine what she must’ve been feeling.
“Is Sylvie really pregnant, and that’s why she went back to heroin? She never . . . ” She trailed off a little heartbrokenly, and betrayal reddened her cheeks as her eyes narrowed on the pointed, laminated corner of her menu. “I guess we weren’t as close as I thought.”
“Mateo seems to think he’ll have a little, happy family and the kid won’t come out fucked up somehow. Honestly, I’ve got half a mind to call his big brother and snitch, but I’m sure Carlyle already knows about the situation. If it were me, well, I wouldn’t be so fucking stupid to not use a condom in the first place, honestly. I can’t imagine this wasn’t part of some plot, either, but you know Sylvie better than I do.” Having a baby born addicted to drugs was just plain cruel, and Illya picked up her menu to hide behind it. My mind whirred with options over how to proceed because there was no fucking way I’d just bring Illya to Mateo. Really, it had more to do with all the suffering Illya went through about Sylvie. Why’d that bitch deserve to wring out any more that her friend might not have? “I’m not bringing you there. Mateo can figure this out on his own. He wanted to launch headfirst into this shit pool, so he can deal with being up to his neck in it.”
“To be honest, this is exactly something Sylvie would’ve done before she got clean. She must’ve been using longer than I realized.” Her grumble from around the menu sent a twitch of sympathy through my cheek, and she sunk into her side of the booth. “Ugh.”
“You had nothing to do with that, Illya.” What a stupid ass thing to say. Lowering her menu, Illya shot me a small, grimy smile, and I grabbed my own menu for the first time since sitting down.
“Maybe not, but here I am . . . having something to do with it. Somehow, I always get dragged into shit.” My lip twitched in a slight snarl, but I had nothing to say to that because Illya was right. At least, thus far, she tried so hard to stay out of the drama, but it sucked her in any way.
