Page 122 of King of Pain

Dropping my brush into the murky water jar, I decide I need to eat. Dinner is nothing fancy, just spaghetti with sauce from a jar. I smile, thinking how Ant would throw a fit if he saw me eating this. I think that’s why I make it more than anything else. I’d give anything to eat his cooking again. To watch him buzzing around the kitchen, that easy smile on his face. The jarred sauce the local runner for The Doves’ local man drops off in the groceries is the best the store has, but it’s still shit compared to Ant’s.

With the sauce warming on low and the water set to boil, I step outside to gather firewood. The second I do, I’m greeted by my self-appointed companion: Vinnie, the mountain goat. “Hey, troublemaker,” I mutter as he trots up to me.

Vinnie wasn’t always like this. When he first started coming around the cabin, he was shy, skittish. It took weeks of patience, coaxing him closer, letting him eat out of my hand before he finally started trusting me. Now? Now he’s by my side constantly, gives me a hard time—and makes me laugh until my eyes are wet. The way our relationship evolved reminded me so much of Ant that I decided he needed a strong Italian name.

The big difference in this relationship? I’m the one that feeds him. Vinnie nudges at my leg, eyes locked on my empty hands. “You just ate,” I remind him, but he ignores me, trying to gnaw at my sleeve.

I grab a few logs, and Vinnie follows me back inside, trotting in like he pays rent. After I finish making dinner and sit down to eat, he stands beside the table, bumping my elbow, trying to get at my plate. I laugh, shaking my head. “I’m glad I have you here, otherwise I would have lost my mind by now.”

After dinner, I clean up, then grab one of the books I’ve read probably fifty times. But my mind doesn’t stay on the words. It drifts, like a ship lost at sea, and it only wants to reach one destination.Him.

Is he happy? Has he worked his way up to being an agent yet? Does he still have Jen in his corner? I hope Lexi’s been there for him too. I should have asked her to look out for him before I cut off communication, but I didn’t. Still, I have to believe she’s been there for him.

And then, the question that always drives me to the brink—does he have someone? Someone who holds him, who makes him laugh, who got to be his first kiss?

The idea makes something dark and possessive coil inside my gut, slithering its way up, threatening to strangle what’s left of my heart.

I shove it down. None of it matters. I’d make the same choices again if it meant keeping him safe. I’d endure any amount of pain.

Frustrated, I toss the book aside. I just need to go to bed.

I call for Vinnie to take him outside for the night. He trots after me, tail flicking as we head to the door. I tried having him sleep in my room. That lasted one night. Stepping in goat shit barefoot is not a pleasant way to greet the day.

I wake up slowly, groaning as the early morning light blasts through the cheap, translucent curtains adorning the windows in this cracker box of a bedroom. I glance down at the tent in the blankets at my crotch and sigh. “I know, buddy. I’m sorry. One day. For now, you’ll have to settle for your side piece, Palmer Handy.”

I make my way to the small bathroom and turn on the shower and leave it running. The hot water takes forever in this cabin. I busy myself with letting Vinnie inside before heading to the kitchen to start coffee. I head back to the bathroom and start to strip off. Stepping out of my boxer briefs, I look down at my still half-hard cock and sigh. I squeeze my large body into the tiny shower stall and my muscles melt under the hot water. It slides over my body as I take myself in hand, memories of Ant the only images guiding my wrist.

Fuck, I miss him.

After my shower, I towel off and slide on a pair of boxer briefs, jeans, a white t-shirt, and a flannel button-down. Making my way to the main part of the cabin, I head into the kitchen and pull eggs and bacon from the fridge. While the eggs cook, I grab a plastic container of cut carrots and apples, scoop some into a bowl, and set it down for Vinnie to eat.

I pour my coffee, plate my eggs and bacon, and sit down to eat. My mind wanders as I think about the spring thaw coming soon and decide to do some maintenance around the cabin. After cleaning up the kitchen, I head out to get started.

Vinnie follows me everywhere, being a menace—chewing at the handle of my tool bucket, trying to eat a discarded rag, headbutting my leg every time I bend over. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” I mutter, but I can’t help laughing.

When afternoon hits, I take a break and head inside for lunch. When I walk into the kitchen, I notice the burner phone flashing.

A message.

I flip it open.

X:Call incoming at 2 p.m. Answer.

I glance at the clock—that’s thirty minutes from now. While I wait, I make a sandwich and brew more coffee for my thermos.

I’m just finishing the sandwich when the phone rings. I pick up immediately.

“Hey, buddy!” comes the voice on the other end.

A smile splits my face. “Hey, Murph. Fuck, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, well, you’re going to be really happy to hear why I’m calling.”

My heart hammers while I sit up straighter. “Wh–what is it?”

Murph’s voice turns serious. “It’s over, my friend. Coast is clear. You can leave.”

I shoot to my feet, pacing. “What are you saying, Murph? What happened?”