To be honest, his call takes me by surprise, not only because I am so invested in what we are doing, but because he’s been calling more frequently lately. He has never called at this time of the day before.
“Carter.” Bruno’s voice is stone cold. “How’s everything over there?”
“Same old, same old, Sarah is fine… as always. How are you, Cuz?”
“Good.”
Fuck, something is up.
“Are you sure? You sound a little weird.” The noise of yet another object made of glass shattering reaches my ear. “What was that?” I ask, concerned.
“Oh, nothing, the bottle slipped from my hand.”
Oh no…
“Are you drunk? That’s not wise. You know what’s going to happen if they catch you with alcohol on you.”
“Pff, let them try.”
He’s drunk, and that isn’t good.
“Do you want them to hang you?”
“Carter…” His tone suddenly changes, he sounds desperate now.
“What?”
“Tell me something about her, anything, please.”
God, this is a fucking nightmare.
I sigh loudly. “You told me…”
“I know…and you did good, but now I’m telling you to do the opposite.”
I pause for a second. I need to give him something, but it must be information that is neither interesting nor alarming.
“She’s good, living in a small but cozy apartment.”
“Where?”
“No, nowheresor whys, Cuz, or I’m not telling you anything else.”
“Okay…”
God, he sounds like a miserable man.
“She uses the money you left her and–”
“Why isn’t she living in my house?”
This is getting out of control.
“That’s a why.”
“Is she dating someone? Be honest.”
I look at Rage’s chair, remembering his sad, quiet face.
