“So needy.” She giggled before pressing a quick kiss on lips and left to go find Hank.
My nerves started to shake, knowing there were so many questions I wanted him to answer, but knew that not all answers were going to be given.
I slowly took the seat by the bedside, trying to muster up the words to tell him exactly what I was feeling. But the cocky son of a bitch did it first.
“That your girl?” he asked.
“You end up in the hospital and the first thing you ask is if that girl is with me?” I shook my head, “What drugs they have you hooked up with?”
“Shooter.” His voice started to break.
“You’re fine, kid. You fucking lucky to be alive.” My voice was teetering on chewing his ass out.
“I’m sorry.” His eyes darted to his folded hands in his lap.
“Sorry about what? Almost dying? I should say you don’t need to be sorry, but shit, kid, you had me worried.” Fuck, I was starting to sound a parent.
Dillon shook his head. “I was stupid.”
I raised an eyebrow. His tense body language spoke so many different messages. Sadness, anger, and a side of guilt?
“Why are you assuming this is your fault? Did you ask to be stabbed and practically left for dead?”
He shook his head, but he was holding back something. I scooted the chair closer to him. “What are you not telling me?”
Dillon looked like he had been holding back the biggest secret. The weight of a secret isn’t worth a life. “You won’t… this really is my fault.”
“Cut the bullshit,” I shouted. The past few days had tested my patience and the strength of not murdering anyone on sight.
“I had this coming,” he mumbled.
“Had what coming?” I pressed.
“You want me to say that I fucking screwed up, again.” He raised his voice, his vital monitor chiming from the rise in his blood pressure and heart rate. He groaned at the slightest movement from adjusting himself in the bed. “I should have said no from the start but I didn’t.”
“Whatever it is, tell me. I don’t know why you didn’t come to me if you’re so worried about it.”
His eyes darted to me. “Because I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
The damn kid. I never meant for him to seek my approval or feel like his movements were under a microscope or think that I would judge him for decisions. Fuck, my own decisions weren’t ethical or logical, but I made them.
“Why do you think this was bound to happen?” I asked again.
“Because I was warned from the beginning that if I didn’t follow orders, the consequences would follow me when I least expected it,” he said, humbly.
“Start from the beginning,” I told him.
He nodded. “After I had finally convinced you to let me do another fight, the word was spreading and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Maybe it was arrogance, or stupid pride, but someone overheard me. They piqued my interest and told me that they’d make a deal where I could make triple what I was going to make from the fight once I won. I knew that it was bad, it was sounding too good. But all I could think about was getting out of debt, being a few steps ahead for the next year or so, finishing school, and never having to return to my home.”
He was making a plan for his future, but ended up making a deal with a devil.
“Money changes people, especially when it comes to making a new life and leaving your old one,” he said.
I couldn’t help but know how related it was to Amelia. Both require money to clear their paths to their destinies, their futures. We’ve all been there, waiting for greed to turn its ugly head. And only the humble and strongest ones knew how to walk away from temptation.
“What was the deal?” I asked.
“I was supposed to throw the fight,” he admitted.
