by J. C. Allen
I walked away, turning around only after a few paces to hurl his phone against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces.
But I could not break the images that I had seen. I could not remove them from my mind. Even if what I had seen was fake, it all aligned awfully well with everything that I had wondered about leading up to this.
The weird comments about being a high-class hooker. The way she just seemingly zoned out for no good reason in public. The way she had hurried through sex that first night.
Individually, they all had fine explanations. But when combined with this… with the photographic proof… with what Chuck had just told me…
In the back of my mind, I heard broken gears grinding against one another, cursed to never fit properly with anything ever again.
As I walked away, I saw my phone ringing with Roost’s number. I answered.
“What,” I growled, with my pissed off mood as evident as the sky being blue.
“Dayum, Derek, ya sound like—”
“I said, what!”
The line went silent for several seconds. I used it as a chance to breathe heavily through my nostrils, trying to calm down the unbelievable rage I felt inside of me.
But it did no good.
The more time that went by, the more engaged I became. The more time that went by, the more convinced I became that Eve really was lying to me. The more time that went by, the more I… I wouldn’t say I believed Chuck’s words, but the more I began to consider them for myself and realize the possibility of them.
“Ya good?” Roost said.
Of course I’m fucking not good. My entire life just crumbled before my eyes, Roost! Some cocksucker who deserves to die just exposed the truth to me!
I should have known. Maggie came from a good family. She was stable.
Eve is not. Eve comes from a dysfunctional home. She appears stable but she’s a broken gear.
Just like me.
Fucking a!
“Good enough,” I said. “Asshole taunted me about the girl, so I showed him a lesson. Nothing more.”
Another pause came.
“OK,” Roost said.
“I’m going home,” I said.
“Eve’s not there. Tara said she headed over for girlie time.”
Good. I don’t need to see her right now. I’d lose my fucking mind.
“Just as well,” I growled as I got on the chopper. “I don’t think she should see me right now.”
26
Eve
“Hey baby!”
I tried to put on a positive smile for Derek as I walked into his apartment that evening, having had a stressful day. He wasn’t answering my phone calls or my texts, leading me to wonder exactly what had happened when he had encountered Chuck. Admittedly, I feared the worst and wondered if he had killed him, but even I thought that was a stretch.
Not that that helped.
I just hoped that seeing him in person finally, after spending most of the day with Tara, only returning home when Matty got home—to which I got “best ya see him face to face”—would allow him to open up some.
“Hey.”
So much for that.
“Everything OK?”
He only gave a half-grunt of acknowledgment. Something was very wrong.
“What hap—”
“I’ll tell you later.”
With that, without saying anything else, he left the couch, leaving the remote behind, not even handing it to me, and headed to his room.
“Derek?”
But I got no response.
I turned on the TV, but only to have background noise as I thought about what the hell I had just witnessed. I had never, ever, ever seen Derek act so aloof and so cold, not even after some of his more brooding moments. He certainly had never shut me out from the rest of the world.
Maybe he did kill him.
Maybe…
Maybe he just needs a night to think about it.
Maybe it’s best if you slept out here. Give him space.
The thoughts seemed fair, although I couldn’t really judge what was “fair” and “best” given the emotional, turbulent storm in my mind.
Because of this, I barely slept a wink, and what sleep I did manage to steal was haunted by terrible dreams. A portion of this broken-glass slumber was stomped out when I heard him gliding into the living room, and I pulled myself from sleep long enough to catch him getting dressed. He didn’t notice me—or maybe he just pretended not to notice—and he didn’t so much as glance in my direction as he slipped away, seeming content to leave me alone and confused on his couch.
I couldn’t take it; I knew he saw me.
“Derek!”
The look in his eyes terrified me. It was cold and distant, enough to drive me to silence. The silence itself spoke as loudly as any words he could have given—it was the look I recognized from relationships past.
The look that said “we’re done, or if we’re not, I want us to be done.”
Then, without another word from either of us, he turned and was gone.
No…
Not like this…
Why? What happened? What the hell did Chuck do to you?
Unable to bring myself to do anything else, I slunk back to the couch and allowed my depression to rape my thoughts again and again and again. I shivered at just the memory of those eyes on me.
What had that look meant?
Was it intentional, or was he just too consumed in business?
Was I taking something personally that wasn’t meant to be?
Something in those eyes…something about it seemed very directed at me, very personal, as if I had committed something worse than original sin…
But why?
And what did whatever it was mean for us now?
Whatever it was, I knew I couldn’t stay there. Either I was working myself up with thoughts that weren’t accurate reflections of reality, or…
Or there really was something wrong between us.
But I couldn’t even fathom what—maybe I’d been foolish having that slightly stupid conversation about being a high-class hooker, a poor attempt at dark humor, but I didn’t think that Derek was the type to hold something like that against me. That just seemed too petty and too childish for Derek to have done.
Nothing about this made sense. I was missing something, and it all revolved around whatever had happened when my brother had met Chuck. If he’d met Chuck.
But I just knew he had met Chuck. I had no idea what he could have possibly told Derek, but for as conniving and evil and cowardly as Chuck was, he did have a long history of persuading people to act in his favor and do his bidding. Derek was strong and didn’t seem susceptible to this, but even the strongest fell sometimes. There was little doubt, sadly, in my mind that Chuck could have said something to trigger Derek.
But what? That he’d met me in Samsville? I knew I should have told Derek beforehand, but to go to this length to ignore me seemed beyond all comprehension. Maybe he would have confronted me sternly, told me not to lie about my brother being around, and I would have deserved it.
But the silent treatment? The cold shoulders? The looks of death? The complete ignorance of my questioning—no, my begging?
My phone began to light up. I quickly hurried over to grab it, thinking maybe Derek had come to his senses. Maybe he’d realized that what he said… or maybe he had decided to confront me about a genuine mistake I had made… either way, this was my chance…
No. It was just Matty.
But Matty’s the one who last spoke to Derek. That’s what Tara said. Maybe he can help.
“H-hello?” I answered, my voice sounding dry and hollow.
“Eve?” Matty’s normally cheerful voice already had an undertone of suspicion, and I cringed at how just my name sounded. “How ya doing? How’s Derek?”
Welp, right to it.
“Good,” I answered slowly, struggling to make the lie sound convincing. “I… uh, Derek is
out. Umm… grocery shopping or… well, yeah. Grocery shopping.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding disbelieving.
How long are you gonna keep lying to keep appearances up, Eve? If anyone can have honesty it’s Matty. And you’re going to tell him his best friend is fine when in reality he just straight out ignored you? Really?
“So where are ya?”
“The condo…”
“Derek jus’ left ya at home, huh?” Matty said.
Well, so much for that appearance remaining. Guess Matty saw right through it.
Thanks, Matty.
“Well… if yer all on yer own, then ya want to get some lunch or somethin’?”
“Lunch…” I said, slowly realizing that this was not so much an invitation to eat food as it was an invitation to have a conversation—a conversation my boyfriend didn’t seem willing to be having right now. “Lunch actually sounds great.”
“A’right. I’ll be by in a jiff to pick ya up,” he said.
“That’s, uhh, no, it’s okay,” I said, hating the idea of him coming here and catching me like this. I at least needed to collect myself and get away from here. “I’ll take an Uber. Where do you want to meet up?”
Matty gave a chuckle.
“I’m a fat boy who loves breakfast food ‘round the clock. Waffle House sound good?”
I almost laughed at the cruel irony of that, but still managed to keep myself composed as I answered. Just so appropriate that if I’m going to talk about Derek, I’m going to do it in a Derek store.
I thought back to my last experience at Waffle House, the closing act of my first “date” with Derek. I remembered just how strange that night had been. How oddly confusing… and yet oddly pleasant everything about it was.
Compared to now, which was oddly confusing and not pleasant in the least bit.
I sighed—a heavy, almost meditative exhale—and, deciding that it felt good, repeated “I feel fine” more times than I could count.
Then, feeling collected enough, I went about getting dressed. Still focusing on my breathing, I took the elevator down to the garage, meeting my Uber ride just as he pulled up. I felt some gratitude that I had a quiet driver and a quick ride—and felt even more grateful that Matty was already outside, walking to the front door, and that Waffle House at 11 a.m. on a weekday was not nearly as crowded as it might have been at just about any other hour or circumstance.
“Ya okay, girlie?” Matty said, already holding the door for me.
Shit. So much for being put together.
“Y-yeah, sorry,” I said. “Just distracted.”
OK, it’s progress. It’s not total honesty, but at least it’s an acknowledgment that things aren’t perfect.
Now to just do that with Derek as a habit instead of as an unusual event.
Matty looked at me cockeyed for just a second, as if deciding whether or not to call me out for my half-assed answers, but the smile that came seconds later told me he either decided he wanted this brunch to be positive or he wanted to wait till we were seated.
Either way, it was odd to realize I kind of needed and thus wanted to have this conversation, if at first in a safe space with a friend instead of Derek himself.
“Well, get yer toosh in here,” Matty smirked. “I’m starving, an’ my chivalry only waits so long when there’s food on the line!”
I smiled at that and hurried in. We were sat with relative ease.
Unfortunately, the silence that followed as we looked at the menu led to the depression returning that seemed to be so good at sinking its claws into me whenever I had moments of silence—and now, here, it seemed especially interested in removing any desire from my stomach.
“What’s on yer mind?” Matty said, his concerned gaze boring into my own.
“You can tell that easily, huh?” I said, unable to bring myself to look up. “Honestly? It’s probably nothing. Just me being stupid…”
“Yer lotsa things, girlie, but stupid ain’t one of ‘em. You say it’s nothin,’ but hows about ya let ol’ Roost decide that?” Matty said, leaning forward.
Well, there ain’t no hiding it now.
Wow, I’m speaking like Matty now too. I guess he really is having an impact on me.
“Well, last night when I got home and I saw Derek, he… well, he just seemed really distant,” I shook my head. “I thought he’d had a rough night or something; some pressing Falcons business maybe.”
Then I realized that the last person to have spoken to Derek, based on what Tara had told me, was, in fact, Matty. If anyone knew what had happened, it was him.
“Something didn’t happen yesterday, did it? Something that would have him acting off?”
Matty shook his head.
“I’ll tell ya what I know,” he said. “Kept gettin’ these messages from some fool who ain’t know how to spell know.”
Chuck. I knew it.
“Derek said he gonna go and teach that boy a lesson. Eagle an’ I followed but had strict orders to stay outta sight. I had ‘em in my scope if need be, an’ boy did Derek deliver a whoopass, but when I asked him what happened, he wouldn’t tell me nuttin.”
Damnit.
So Derek’s not only shut me out, he’s shut his best friend out too.
I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel better or much, much worse.
I sighed. If Derek hadn’t told either of us, he hadn’t told anyone. And it wasn’t like Derek was the journaling type—and even if he was, for me to try and find such a thing was the fastest ticket out of that relationship.
“And then, this morning, it was the same thing—distant and cold. And then he looked at me and it felt like he was a totally different person. Like he didn’t even know me. Like he didn’t even…”
Want to be with me.
But I’m not going to jinx it. Not at this point.
“That don’t sound like Derek,” Matty said, rubbing a large hand over his chin. “But, I mean, this is Derek we’re talkin’ ‘bout. He sometimes goes on these weird lil’ spells of his. In any case, I’ll talk to him in a bit and see if there ain’t somethin’ more I can dig up for ya. Maybe some time alone straighten his damn mind right. But if things get worse, ya tell me, kay? I mean it, Evie.”
Evie.
I don’t think anyone’s called me that. It’s kinda cute.
Take notes, Derek.
“I will,” I said, forcing a smile. “Thanks, Matty.”
“‘Roost,’” he said.
“I can’t help it, I think everyone should be called by their real names! Out on the streets most of us had code names. I never did, even if…”
It meant people who knew me from before would realize that I’d fallen to. Matty just smirked.
“I like ya, so I’ll allow it,” he said. “But swear to Christ, ya get Derek callin’ me Matty and I ain’t never callin’ ya anything but Toots.”
“Deal,” I said with a laugh, one that retreated slowly as our drinks came out.
As we took our first sip, I thought about how it was that Derek and Roost first became friends—how Derek had given the nickname to Matty, or how Matty had gotten it in the first place. I realized with some chagrin that in that moment I didn’t know much about Matty’s past.
Nor, I realized sullenly, that I knew much of Derek’s, a few photo albums and a few dropped hints here and there.
“I was also thinking,” I said, feeling emboldened to speak more. “I don’t know much about Derek’s past… and I don’t know exactly how to ask him. Especially right now.”
“Where to start,” Matty said. “I’ve known Derek since he was little. Used to bounce on my knee while his dad an’ me talked business.”
I caught myself genuinely smiling at the thought. Little Derek Knight—before he was a gruff, tough, gritty leader of the Savage Saviors, he was just a little boy like everyone else.
“He was the smarts of the Knights. Dustin, Derek’s older brother, was sort of raised with the understanding
that the Saviors would eventually be his to lead. It seems unfair to say aloud, I know, but there was never really any sense of force or demand with the Knights when the Saviors was involved. Everyone in that family jus’ sort of knew their place and played the part—‘cept that Derek never had no place in the Saviors. He was just a Knight. His dad ran the ship, his mom ran his dad, and Dustin was the one on deck to run things when his dad stepped down. Everyone just loved Derek for bein’ the lil’ thinkin’ tike he was. With no expectations loomin’ over him, he was free to do what he pleased, Really, he just liked keepin’ things organized.”
I raised an eyebrow at that.
“Organized?” I said, not sure I understood.
“Yeah. Even young, Derek had it all lined up just right.”
“Any idea why?” I said, intrigued.
“I suppose he got it from the other Knights. They all had their vices. Dad loved old movies, Mom was into anythin’ and everythin’ vampire-related, and Dustin, ‘cuz of his pops, loved motorcycles and basically anythin’ with an engine. So I guess Derek saw all that and just took to that sense of order, but applied it to everythin.’ Those thinkin’ eyes never stopped. He just always seemed to be puttin’ what he saw in some sort of box in his head.”
“Wow…” I said, considering how this applied to Derek today, finding that it explained his meticulous approach to our dates and… well, everything.
While hearing all of this was very sweet and heartwarming, I hadn’t asked this question for that specific aspect of his history. As much as I knew I might regret this line of questioning, I wanted to get it from Matty before I asked Derek in case it was far too harsh of a set of questions to ask Derek.
“So what about his wife?” I asked. “How did he meet her?”
A painful expression of pure joy and utter sorrow passed in front of Matty’s face. Tread carefully. Last thing you need is two of them against you, especially Derek’s best friend.
“Maggie?” he said. “She… well, she was a childhood friend, one of Derek’s only if she wasn’t his actual only friend. Her folks were friends of the family. She was a sweet kid. Sweet to Derek, anyhow, which was rare. She seen somethin’ in Derek early on—everyone with eyes enough to see could see that much—and the two of ‘em got along great. I guess ya could say the way it happened was exactly how everyone suspected it would. They grew, an’ as they did…. well, y’know. Like I says: it jus’ happened the way everyone suspected it would.”