Page 42 of We The Depraved

A few hours pass, and I’m inside of the house about to go crazy when Silver finally arrives. She has a bag with all my stuff and a cup of coffee.

“I told you liquor?”

She eyes me. “First of all, no. Second of all….”

I take the coffee from her. There’s no use in arguing.

“You know you’ve been drinking more than usual.”

She closes the door behind me and we go into the living room. She looks around and her eyes are huge. This place is pristine, like there’s some invisible maid putting everything right every single second.

I sit down on the black couch.

“So what’s the deal?” Silver takes her time sitting. “I can see he got moneyyyyyy.”

I laugh at the way she say money and nod.

“Texas has oil, football, and billionaires,” I shake my head.

“How did you two meet? Sage, you’ve been acting really weird lately.”

“He….he knew the Judge,” I sip the coffee that still has a bit of foam on top.

“Fuck.”

Her words are a whisper but they hit my ears.

“My father, even from beyond the grave...”

I swallow more coffee but it’s a poor substitute for bourbon leaving a trail of warmth. I’m starting to worry that I’m craving alcohol so much. Besides, the only way to get out of this shit storm I’ve found myself in, is to be sober and keep as level a head as possible.

“So, let’s leave. Like honestly, fuck this guy.”

I shake my head and finish off the brew that’s started to get cold. The taste lingers on my tongue like a forgotten memory.

“Sage, does he have something on you?”

There’s no way I can tell my best friend that he’s marked my sister for death. I do what I’ve done for so long, I almost break my own heart.

Pretend bitch, I think.

Pretending is just like dancing, I think again.

“No,” I smile. “Stop worrying about me. What’s new with you?”

“Still trying to get a broadcasting internship….bartending just pays better at the moment,” Silver bites her lip. “It’s all going to work out.”

“Have you made any new media contacts?”

Silver can make friends with just about anyone in room. The fact that she has yet to land a high paying gig in Texas media is beyond me, but I know she’s destined for something great.

I watch her relax and curl up on the couch. “You’re not slick,” she tells me.

“I know but the less you know about all this, the better. Now tell me about some of those events you’ve been “tending” at the Texas Garden Stadium. Are the boys still making free-throws…” I throw her a smile and get comfortable.

“Jesus, its touchdowns,” she shakes her head.

Silver loves sports like I love money and power.