“Why am I like this?” I roared at Merit, feeling stupid but still close to losing my mind.
“I don’t know.” He gave me a crooked smile. “But you’re my friend, and I’m trying to help.”
“Why won’theletmehelp?”
Merit shrugged, obviously no better equipped to come up with an answer than me. Right now I wasn’t Angel’s Casey bear, but he also hadn’t fucking been my little cutie, either. He’d copped a huge fucking attitude, but he’d had a right to be upset. I hated that he hadn’t called me and that for some reason this version of Angel I’d seen tonight was different in my goddamned mind. I didn’t want Angel to be a target for my rage bombs just because he wasn’t being my boy—my little brother—at any given moment. My head was so messed up. “What’s wrong with me?”
Merit gave my shoulder a shake. “You’re fucking fine, buddy. You’ve always been good. He was pushing your buttons by not asking for your help sooner.”
“Fuck.” I knew Merit was just trying to be supportive, but he was wrong. “I shouldn’t have yelled at him. Goddamn it. Let’s take care of this.”
It took us three long, grueling hours to get a handle on the disaster, and the issues were exacerbated by the fact that neither one of us was the homeowner, so at one point I just started lying. I told the city workers who showed up that I was a landlord, and they bought it. One lie was enough to get them to think about shutting off the water to the house so we could begin working on the rest of the mess. The city workmen moved slower than a molasses turd, and I wanted to scream at them all. My employees would never waste time the way they did. The water hadn’t even been cut yet when Merit got on the phone to a few of the men from his construction crew who were bucking for overtime. He told them to haul ass.
“I’ll cover it,” I grumbled.
He only snorted. “Don’t. In materials alone this will be a lot. Let me pay my men. I assume you’re covering this for him?”
“Yes.” I sighed and went outside to stare off down the street in the direction Angel had vanished. I was betting he’d taken a bus home.
Merit frowned at the small home with the years of his experience slumping his shoulders, and I groaned as he shared a look with me. “We don’t have keys, but we’ll secure the house somehow before we go. It’s going to take a hot minute to get a sump pump in here once we get under the house. I know it’s flooded.”
“Whatever it needs. I don’t want Angel worrying about this. Fuck, I hate knowing I’m fixing a place up for Peter Gaffin.”
Merit didn’t say anything about my bombshell of a complaint, more or less confirming my hunch that he’d been spending a lot of time with Creed, who loved to blab about anything and everything; however, he did snag my hand. “That kid’s lucky he has you.” He let me go.
I knew I should say thanks. I couldn’t. “Is he? What if what we did all those years ago caused this right now?”
Merit stopped and shook his head, the cleft in his chin cutting deep as he pursed his lips. “A butterfly flaps its wings, and you’re dealing with a flooded crawlspace? Hell of a coincidence.”
“We hurt Peter Gaffin. What if we’d never done that? Would he have been fine? Would Angel have had a nicer life?” I gripped his shoulder, and he patted my hand.
“Someone else would have fucking shot him in the face.” Merit turned and rested his hands on my shoulders. He was one of the few people who could reach me to do that without straining himself. “Angel would be dealing with nothing because he wouldn’t exist,” he said through clenched teeth. “Do you remember Peter Gaffin? He followed us around. Gave us never-ending hell. We weren’t the only people he terrorized, and the fucks he called a gang targeted plenty of others besides us. For what? Nothing. He’s a fucking prick.”
I shrugged. Guilt had replaced my anger and it wasn’t a good change.
“Go. I got this.” Merit and I hugged it out, and then he made his way back toward the house. I got in my car and left. Not long later, I found a parking spot downtown without any problems because the weather was craptastic and it was late. I walked to Angel’s apartment building. With each thump of my feet on the sidewalk, I went over everything that had happened. I hated being apart from him, didn’t want to think of him inside his apartment alone and hurting. Upset about problems. Not when I was right out here.
When I arrived at the high-rise, I went inside and up the stairs, struck by how much I hated the cheap rental. I didn’t want him here. The smell of foul garbage and something else unpleasant bit my nose as I passed one of the apartments near his. I came to a stop in front of Angel’s door. More than anything, I wanted to take him home. But I’d yelled at him. I’d probably fucking scared him again.
I growled. But he hadn’t fucking called me.
I beat my fist on the door. “Open up!”
There was no answer from inside, so I pounded the door harder. Down the hallway a guy not much older than Angel with blond hair stuck his head out of his apartment, and when he caught sight of me he vanished fast. I beat on the door again. Angel had to be in there. If he wasn’t, where was he? I hammered harder.
“Stop! Go home! Please, stop!” came from right on the other side of the wood separating us. He sounded even madder than he had been at the house.
“Angel, open this goddamned door!”
I raised my fist and made myself wait until I could knock softly.
“Leave!”
Rage had me ready to bust the door in, but even as upset as I was, I knew that wouldn’t end well.
I tried one last time and gave a light tap on the door.
Silence.
