Page 16 of Unhinged

“I didn’t ask for names.”

“Seriously. Give me one woman’s name, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“You definitely need a hobby or a man. Rhonda. Happy?”

My mother’s snooping smile falls as her phone rings, granting me a reprieve. She doesn’t need to know how much I fucked up. She retreats to the kitchen, talking in a hushed voice. She’s definitely getting some.

To escape that mental catastrophe, I return to the shower sex scene I had left on the screen to forget about certain people.

“Yo, Milt,” I say, going behind the bar, but standing next to Milt is Peter Pan’s current profile pic after leaving Neverland. The years have not been kind.

“Good evening, Rod,” Amos greets with an offensive grin while his maroon sweater and khakis insult me more.

I frown but stifle a laugh. “What the hell are you wearing? It’s a bar, not The Gap.” Right. He shops TJ Maxx’s clearance.

“Just starting off on the right foot.”

“Watch that I don’t trip your left,” I mutter as I find a rag to wipe off the bar just to have something to do.

I hear Amos’s breathing before he’s next to me, rivaling Darth Vader. “Can I see you in the kitchen?”

I don’t stop wiping the area I already cleaned. “Probably since you can see me out here.”

I hear his sigh over the music. “I need to talk to you. In the kitchen. Now.”

Straightening so I’m taller than him, I scowl. “Get bent, Vaughn.”

Amos grabs my arm and drags me to the kitchen. Surprisingly, he’s a strong motherfucker, or I’m a limp dick, not surprisingly.

In the bright kitchen, he releases my arm, and I immediately put space between us by going to the other side of the counter. “What the fuck is your problem?” I snap, wanting to rub my arm but won’t while he’s watching.

“You.”

“No kidding.”

“Rod—”

“Stop calling me that.”

Amos frowns, not expecting that. I practically hear his judgment with the music more muted in the kitchen. “What? Rod?”

“The one and only.”

He squints like I shined the sun in his pudgy face. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been Rod.”

“Not by choice. I’m done with anything being forced upon me. This is where I kill Rod. I’m Greg. Always been and like Janet Jackson, I’m finally in control.”

Still shocked, Amos nods. “Okay, Greg. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it bothered you.”

“You don’t know the half of what bothers me.”

“Actually…I think I do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Amos?” I ask, panicked, scanning everything I said to him Saturday night. Unfortunately, there’s not much I remember, and that scares the fuck out of me.

Amos’s expression is the stuff of Freddy Krueger’s nightmares. He looks toward the door and then back at me. “You disclosed what you and Hadley did.”

I lick my dry lips as the panic returns tenfold. I speak slowly so I don’t fucking stutter, advertising my anxiety. The assclown probably has a coupon. “I said nothing about her.” Oh, fuck. Did I? I can’t talk about it. I said enough to my cracked-out hooker ex-neighbor, Flo, that night.

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