Page 24

24

KAVANAUGH

The door slammed in my face and I sighed, leaning against it and thunking my head. Fuck, that blew up really fast.

Fox strolled out, a grin on his face as he popped some Flamin’ Hot Funyuns in his mouth. “Hey, buddy. How’d the meeting go?”

“Fox,” Anna hissed, elbowing him in the side.

“Oh. Oops. I take it the whole thing was a bust.”

“I’m really sorry,” Anna apologized. “I was just running out for some dinner.”

“It’s fine,” I muttered, knowing it really wasn’t. I’d fucked up big time, and everyone warned me about it. But I thought I could figure out what was going on first and keep Isla from ever having to find out about it.

“Is there anything I can do?” Anna asked.

“Yes!” Fox grinned. “You go get dressed and put on something amazing. Take our dear friend out to dinner and have a great time.”

She flinched back. “You want me to take Kavanaugh to dinner?”

He tossed his head back in laughter, then immediately stopped, staring at me with an intensity that kinda scared the shit out of me. “No, that would never happen. Isla. You should take Isla to dinner.”

“That’s not a good idea,” I cut in. “It’s dangerous and?—”

Fox wrapped his arm around my shoulder, dragging me down the hall. “See, this is where you’re wrong. You suspect there’s danger. Now, I get it. It can be scary to let go. Women tend to get themselves into trouble. When I was not stalking Anna, she actually let herself get taken by a serial killer.” His eyes widened as he shook his head. “But was I scared? Not at all. I had things under control, and I do tonight, too. See, what the ladies don’t know is that I will be tracking them every step of the way. I never let Anna completely out of my sight. She’s always being watched.”

“And you don’t think she’s figured that out yet?” I asked dryly as we stepped onto the elevator and headed downstairs.

“Oh, she’s figured it out for sure. It’s a little game we play. She gets mad at me when she figures out what I’m doing. Then I turn around and find another way to spy on her. Yeah,” he grinned. “It really keeps the relationship alive.”

“Doesn’t seem to be working for me,” I grumbled.

“That’s because you’re not doing it right. You have to be more honest and open with her. Own who you are.”

“In what way?”

“Well, when I watch over Anna—see what I did there? It’s never stalking. Women tend to frown on that. When I watch over Anna, I flat out tell her that I will be watching. She doesn’t know how, but she knows I’m around. Just like when I took her under my wing all those years ago. I made it very clear it was not kidnapping.”

“It was kidnapping.”

“Yes, but if you tell them enough it’s not, they start to believe it.”

“That’s Stockholm Syndrome.”

He grinned widely at me, pulling me through the lobby to exit the building. “Man, you and your semantics. You have to let that go and embrace the crazy. The reality of the situation is that you don’t trust her on her own.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you really don’t. If you did, you would let her go about her day without holding onto her like she’s going to slip through your fingers at any second. Your trust level is down here,” he said, holding his hand at knee height. “Where you want it is around here,” he said, moving his hand up just an inch.

“You barely moved your hand!”

“Well, you can’t give them too much trust. That’s when they get kidnapped by serial killers.”

“Fox, none of this is making any sense.”

“Sure it is. It’s like eating Funyuns.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing I was going to regret this. “And how is that?”

“Well, say you’re eating regular Funyuns. Full of flavor and life—they are the epitome of a great snack. Delicious onion flavor, crunchy goodness dusted in that yellow coating, the perfect size to fit on your finger or twirl around when you’re feeling blue…” He frowned, looking over at me. “Where was I? Oh, right! If you let them grow, you’ll find another great flavor.” He winked at me. “That’s Flamin’ Hot Funyuns. Totally different and totally amazing.”

I couldn’t believe that actually made sense. “So, you’re saying that if I give her a little more of my trust, she’ll surprise me.”

He frowned at me. “Dude, I was just talking about how amazing Funyuns are. But sure, I guess that makes sense.”

He tugged on my shirt, dragging me into a bar. The last thing I felt like doing was drinking, but when in Rome. Or another state with Fox. We walked over to the bar and took a seat, waiting patiently for the bartender to head our way.

All around, women eyed us. I used to love the feel of a woman’s gaze on me, wondering if she would have the confidence to approach me. A woman like that was feistier in the bedroom, willing to explore all kinds of sexual experiences. But a woman shy and demure, that was always a fun adventure. They seemed to be even more grateful for the time you gave them. And I used to eat that shit up, giving them all of me just so I could have them lavish me with praise at the end of the night.

But as I looked around at all these women, desperate for a night of fun, I found myself wishing I could just get Isla to open the fucking door and let me in. This scene was no longer appealing to me. All I wanted was the one woman who had pounced back into my life and made me want something more than a cheap thrill on a Saturday night.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, tossing a rag over his shoulder.

“Do you have a Funyuns sort of drink?” Fox asked.

“A what?”

“You know, Funyuns, but in a drink.”

“You want me to take Funyuns and dump them in a drink,” the man repeated. “I don’t have any Funyuns.”

Fox grinned at him. “I have an emergency bag on me,” he said, sliding his hand into his cargo pants and pulling out a snack pack. His eyes were remorseful as he turned to me. “Sorry I lied about not having any. You understand I couldn’t risk you stealing what little snacks I had left.”

“Of course,” I said in mock seriousness. I didn’t give a shit about his Funyuns, but they were important to him.

“So, if you could match this flavor in one of your drinks, that would be really awesome.”

“I’m afraid we don’t carry Funyuns flavored drinks.”

Fox snorted. “Obviously. If you did, it would be sold out. Maybe that’s what I need to do. I should start a Funyuns distillery! That would be so amazing. What do you say we wrap this up and head back to Kansas for some good old-fashioned brewing?”

“You know, as…amazing as that sounds, I think I’ll find something else to do.”

“What could be more amazing than leading the charge in the most forward-thinking drink of this century?”

I didn’t answer. I just turned back to the bartender and requested a beer.

“Hey! And don’t forget my Funyuns drink!” Fox shouted. Snorting, he shook his head. “Can you believe that guy? It was like he didn’t really care what my order was. I’m telling you, this whole Funyuns thing is going to be a hit. Pretty soon, the whole world is going to be ordering my drink.”

“But then, would there really be any left for you?”

His eyes widened in horror. “You know, you’re right. There’s already not enough room at the supermarket for them. What if people start buying up Funyuns and there are none left for me?”

“Don’t you have a whole room of Funyuns in the silo?”

He slapped his hand over my mouth, looking around in case anyone heard. “How did you know about that?”

I started to speak, but was hindered by his Funyuns-flavored skin covering my mouth. When he moved it, he glared at me. “I’m not spilling your secrets. Everyone knows about that room.”

“Shit,” he muttered.

“And we also know about how long it’s been there.”

His eyes popped wide as he swallowed hard. “I swear, I didn’t touch them during my time away from everything. They were only there to keep me on an even keel. I swear!”

“Nobody gives a shit. In fact, I’m pretty sure the guys have been adding to your stash to ensure you never go back to that meditating crap. And the throat singing?—”

“I thought you all liked my throat singing,” he snarled.

“Fox,” I sighed, snagging my beer as the bartender set it down. “I don’t know a single person alive who would willingly listen to that shit.”

The bartender set a yellow drink in front of Fox. “That’s the best I could do.”

Fox went through a whole testing phase, looking at the contents first, then sniffing it, before finally lifting it to his lips and taking the smallest taste. “Too much vodka. But it’s a solid effort,” he told the man.

The bartender rolled his eyes as if he really didn’t care. “Gee, I was really worried about that.”

“No need,” Fox said quickly. “I’ll have this perfected in no time. I’ll send you the recipe.”

The man stared at him for a second before responding. “I can’t wait.”

As the man walked away, Fox turned to me with a gleam in his eyes. “You know, I think that guy was lying.”

And so went my night, listening to Fox talk about his newfound drink instead of spending my night with Isla like I should be.