Page 46

“Yeah. Let's do this.”

“Not if you're not in the right mental space. You with me, Benson?”

I shrug off my suit jacket and nod. “Fine.”

“You're not fine.” The streetlights engulf his face in a dull yellow glow. “Talk to me.”

“It's just the same as always. I'm fine.”

“It's getting worse?”

“Not worse, just… closer to the surface.”

“That's worse.”

“This will help.” I roll up my cuffs and shove them over my elbows while he shrugs out of his own jacket. “I have to get some of this… whatever it is out.”

“I think it’s called feelings. And normal people go to therapy or work out, just so you know.”

“I haven’t made time to get to the club between Randi, Jessica, and my mother’s constant need for me to come by the estate. And really I know I just need Randi,” I mutter, not happy that it's the truth. “No amount of exercise or talking to some stranger will fix that. It's only been a year, and somehow that woman is the one thing I need to stay sane. How is that?”

Instead of waiting for his answer, I take two quick steps and throw a hard right hook, knowing full well he'll block it. His forearm slams against my own, keeping my fist inches from his face. With a quick push, he shoves me back three steps.

“She's just as miserable as you,” he says, holding his own fists up, preparing for another attack.

My raised hands drop an inch. “What?”

“That's why I asked if you've noticed anything besides her ass this week. Have you seen her face? She's miserable. The desperate glances she sends your way are enough to break my own heart, you son of a bitch.”

I duck in time to miss his fist slamming into my skull.

“Really?”

“I swear you’re a fool and don't deserve her. Yes, she's just as miserable without you as you are without her. Pull your head out of your ass, Trey. Look at her.Reallylook at her.”

My elbow ricochets off his thick bicep just as his slams into my ribs. All the air explodes from my lungs as pain shoots through my side. Not giving in to the desire to fold over and nurse my bruised ribs, I take a step back to catch a breath.

“Don't you think I know that?” I wheeze. Fuck, he might have broken a bone. “I think you punctured a lung.”

“Told you this was a bad idea. Better yet?”

A snarl pulls at my upper lip. “Not even close.”

Shadows dip across his face as he leans forward. “Then what are you waiting for, pussy? Fight.”

I start forward only to pause. “Wait. Are we talking about this fight or a metaphorical fight for my relationship with Randi?”

“You really aren't as smart as you think you are.”

I hold up a hand, palm out. “Is that a yes? Wait, which is it?” Leaning back against the building’s crumbling brick, I scrub a calloused palm across my face. “I need a damn road map for this conversation.”

“Both. Neither. Which is worth fighting for?”

The noises of the city filter down the dark alley. Glaring at the concerning oily puddle at my feet, I search the nasty asphalt for the right answer.

“Both.” My tone is firm with the knowledge that my best friend is a brilliant man. The brick scrapes across both palms as I push off it, standing tall once again. “Now, where were we?”

A sinister smirk pulls at his lips, showing off his brilliant white teeth.