Page 42 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)

A hand on his shoulder yanked Kuon out of the void.

He peeled the blanket off himself, staring at the thick fog surrounding him, then blinked.

His vision didn’t clear. It took a few long moments under the dim streetlights to realize his eyes were fine and that fog swallowed the ground.

He squinted, vaguely recognizing the car interior and the man beside him.

A sigh escaped his mouth. He already missed the warm oblivion of much-needed but far too short sleep as the call of reality greeted him with a headache and severe disorientation.

With effort, he lifted his head from the side glass and stared at concrete apartment buildings sprouting around like mushrooms in the suburbs.

“Bad dream? You’re scowling.” If Kuon had not ducked, Tobias’ finger would have jabbed him between eyebrows.

“Don’t,” Kuon growled, raising his hand to rub his itching eye but dropping it halfway, remembering the doctor’s orders. He wanted to ask where they were, but realized it didn’t matter. As long as he was in Vienna, he would be fine.

Interpreting Kuon’s silence, Tobias asked, “Not here? Where then? Or maybe you’d like to come with me?”

Kuon struggled to tell if the man was teasing or deadly serious. Either way, he shook his head. “Here’s fine. Thanks for the ride.”

He tugged on the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge, so he gave the driver a puzzled look.

“Think about what I told you. It’s not too late to walk away, Puppy. I can help you disappear.”

God, he really wants me gone.

“Don’t sweat it, I’m not going back.” The words scraped painfully along the tender surface of his throat as they escaped.

“Yeah, sure.” Tobias flashed him an eerie smile and unlocked the doors. “Good luck, Puppy.”

With a curt nod, Kuon stepped out and shut the door. The car roared, spun around, and sped into the night. Watching it head back, Kuon thought the Knight XV was surprisingly maneuverable for such a massive vehicle.

The wind snaked under his T-shirt, pinching his skin. He was especially sensitive to the cold after an hour in the bone-melting heat. His arms automatically wrapped around his torso, rubbing his shoulders as he looked around in a groggy state.

His breath fogged. In the cold city, no stars shone, defeated by the artificial light.

The chill rising from the asphalt pierced his soles. His left calf cramped, and the gritty surface made his feet ache again. He wanted to get drunk, but more than that, he wanted to sleep.

He took a tentative step toward the nearest streetlight but groaned as stabbing pain shot through his soles. Staggering around seemed like a bad idea, so he assessed his surroundings with extra attention.

A dark building towered over the sleeping street, watching the night with a few yellow eyes.

Even in his weary state, Kuon found its grotesque construction ugly.

A block upon block with tiny windows and two “necks” of communal balconies, the building was a shining example of Cubism-influenced modern architecture; in reality it looked more like a stack of wooden blocks left by a toddler.

Disoriented, Kuon turned around and squinted through the milky air. This residential area could be anywhere in the Vienna suburbs.

Why did he leave me here? Then it hit him. Ahhh… This must be Rick’s.

Curiosity grew.

If so, there must be a park nearby. He strained his vision to make out the dense vegetation in the distance, black and gray in the foggy night, and hummed when he found it.

Seeing the place where he’d lived for months felt surreal. If it weren’t for the cold, he would have taken his time exploring the familiar yet foreign cityscape.

So Tobias knows this address… This must be what Yugo meant when he warned me about my friends becoming weaknesses.

Entering felt wrong. He didn’t want to bother Rick or rely on his kindness again, nor give him the wrong idea, but walking barefoot through Vienna wasn’t an option either. He wondered how many taxi drivers would pick up someone like him without first seeing payment. He guessed none.

That left him with only one option. Suppressing the last remnants of his pride, he looked around for a lone passerby to ask for a cell phone to call Gray when a familiar voice, rough and cracking like breaking crust of bread and accompanied by a tiny bark, reached him from behind. “Kuon? What are you doing here?”

Fuck… Kuon winced. Preparing for another round of humiliation, he forced a smile, turned around, and raised his hand. It’s not even four in the morning. Why the hell aren’t you sleeping? Why can’t I get lucky for once?

He was about to say “hey” when his gaze caught two pups sniffing the air on either side of Rick’s feet. Both had docked tails and cropped, tightly taped ears.

Kuon’s jaw dropped. “When did you get puppies?”

“Last week. Meet Chaos and Wrath.”

Kuon hummed, then tapped his own ear. “Is this even legal?”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. They arrived like this from Serbia.

” Rick ruffled his hair, glanced down at himself, and sniffed his sweat-drenched T-shirt, obviously wondering how close he could get to Kuon without offending his senses.

A boyish grin lit up his face as he took a tentative step closer, the two Doberman puppies following in his wake.

The corners of his mouth dropped when his traveling gaze stumbled upon Kuon’s feet.

“Where’re your shoes? What are you doing here at this hour? What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay. I’m just… I crashed the car and had to walk a bit.

Someone gave me a ride, so I’m fine.” Kuon tried to sound convincing but couldn’t find the right words.

Fucking Tobias. Why did he bring me here?

His head throbbed, making it hard to come up with a convincing story.

He rubbed his temples with icy fingers and said, “I don’t have any money on me. Can you call me a cab, please?”

“Are you out of your mind?” Rick’s incredulous voice carried a thunder of rising anger. Without hesitation, he pointed at the building. “Upstairs. Now.”

Kuon glanced at the road behind him, then took a painful first step toward the building. Rick had already seen him, so there was no reason to be difficult, especially since he needed help.

The rumble of the lock closing stirred memories and sent Kuon’s gaze darting around. The familiar objects he’d touched countless times but never really seen offered a welcome distraction. His hand glided along the plain ivory wall, caressed the top of the coffee-colored padded stool.

“Hmm, everything is just as I imagined,” Kuon croaked to dispel the uncomfortable silence but cringed at the throaty sound of his voice.

Circling around his legs, the puppies poked Kuon’s battered feet with wet noses, begging for attention. Trying to escape their unwanted curiosity, Kuon shifted from foot to foot, lifting his toes.

“Come on, guys, give Kuon some space.” Rick shooed the puppies away, then faced his unexpected guest, looking him over in the harsh light. His expression shifted from astonishment to anger, then to something like pity and remorse.

Kuon scowled. “I’m fine, Rick, and I won’t bother you for long. I just need to make a phone call and grab a few things.”

Silence engulfed the room, broken only by the restless clacking of small claws on the wooden floor. Kuon hated it when people pitied him. His nails stabbed into his palms, and his teeth gnashed. I should never have come.

As if reading his mind, Rick forced his expression to neutrality. “I’ll make coffee and something to eat; you go take a shower. We’ll talk later.”

Kuon scratched behind his ear, searching for words to decline the offer, but Rick spoke before he could. “Didn’t you come here because you trust me? Then rely on me a little more, okay?”

Kuon bit his lip, torn. Rick would never believe that his being here was a coincidence. Any denial at this point would seem like a lie, a game, or an insult. Less than anything, he wanted Rick to think he was playing him. Refusing his help wouldn’t look any better.

I won’t stay for long. Shower, eat, change, and go. Determined to do so, he managed a quick nod. “Thank you, Rick, also for not asking anything. I appreciate it.”

Guided by muscle memory, Kuon stumbled toward the bathroom but froze halfway. The pesky portiere that separated the hallway from the living area blocked his way. He pulled it aside to reveal the familiar yet foreign sight.

Since he’d left, Rick had acquired new items and gotten rid of some old ones.

A black beanbag chair nestled against the full-wall window overlooking the pale, misty night.

Newspapers were scattered on a low coffee table nearby.

A tall pole lamp with a zebra-print shade—which didn’t match anything else in the room—towered behind it, surrounded by dumbbells and barbell plates.

Across the room, a red ceramic coffee mug and a black protein shaker sat unwashed on the brown kitchen counter.

Kuon’s attention drifted to the center of the room where, instead of a sofa, a hammock hung from the ceiling next to a punching bag.

In the far corner of the living room, next to Rick’s bedroom, was a huge black dog cage.

One puppy scratched at the bedroom door; the other lapped water from a bowl.

Kuon grimaced. The changes in Rick’s place made it obvious he wasn’t expecting visitors. It hadn’t even been a month since Kuon left, but the apartment had already turned into the primeval cave of someone disinterested in any relationship. A gnawing feeling settled in his stomach.

I shouldn’t be here. Guilt exacerbated his emotional hemorrhage.

He opened his mouth, then quickly shut it, realizing that any attempt to leave at this point would be taken as a grave insult. Resigned, he turned on a healthy heel and limped into the bathroom.