Page 34 of Selfish Desires

“Sure. I trust you.” Except, Zachary’s tone wasn’t too convincing. “Vincent, you owe me. Now, it’s time to help out.”

Oxygen hissed through my nostrils, dragging my free hand down my face. “Fine. Just send me the address, and I’ll meet you there.”

Without waiting for a response, I ended the call and immediately threw my phone on the vacant side of the bed. The device bounced once before settling amidst the untouched pillows. I threw myself back against the pancake pillows, my head creating a solid thud. Unreal, I thought. This was an expensive hotel, and they couldn’t even afford decent pillows. My body needed sleep, but I had no idea how to actually fall asleep with this much on my mind. I forced my eyes closed and prayed I’d get some sleep.

Sleep proved nothing but a pipe dream for my frazzled head.

The next morning promised nothing but gloom as continuous rain drummed against the hotel window. As I made my way down to the lobby and out into the downpour, wrapping myself closer within my coat, I took one last look at this damned city before setting off for Boston.

The drive was a blur—landscapes smeared by rain and fast-forwarded by speed. It didn’t matter; my mind was elsewhere. With every mile that passed under my wheels, Wendy’s face became more vivid in my mind’s eye. Would she be awake now? Maybe she'd be sipping coffee in her kitchen, watching the rain, her eyes tracing the droplets as they raced to reach the railing. Or maybe she'd be in bed still, curled up under the thick duvet, her peaceful sleeping face illuminated by the soft morning light.

“Damn it...” I murmured, slamming my hand against the steering wheel as I struggled to control my thoughts. I needed to focus on Zachary and this supposed business opportunity. If nothing else, it was a distraction. I followed navigation and arrived at the address fifteen minutes early. How Zachary described this place didn’t do it any justice. This restaurant wasn’t in the midst of a renovation. It was a straight-up, stripped-down dump.

I exited the car, my polished leather loafers meeting the cracked pavement as I viewed the dilapidated building. The once glistening glass window panes were caked in dust and smeared with hand prints of forgotten construction workers. The building's brick exterior was faded, its bright red hue stained by relentless weathering, a haunting reminder of its once vibrant existence.

“Vincent!” Zachary's voice echoed through the empty street as he approached me, his shoes crunching over shattered concrete underfoot. “You’re early.” Between his black trench coat and matching attire, hair slicked back more than normal, he resembled a walking devil.

“I’m never late.” I pulled my coat tighter as my breath pooled in clouds of white inches from my mouth. Nodding to the dilapidated structure, I raised a dissatisfied eyebrow in his direction. “This is your idea of 'sound investment'?” I asked incredulously.

He shrugged, pulling the collar of his coat higher against the harsh wind. “It has potential if you have a vision.”

I allowed myself a bitter chuckle at his optimistic outlook and walked toward the building. The inside was even worse than the outside. Broken chairs were scattered haphazardly throughout the space, shards of glass twinkling under the faint light that seeped through the grimy windows. The ceiling was stained with water damage, evidence of a leak left unattended for far too long. My mind instantly shot to mold. There was definitely mold behind the peeled-painted walls.

“Zachary,” I began, my voice echoing through the vacant space as I tried to hide the disgust that threatened to rise. “I've seen a lot of renovation projects, but this... This isn't a project. It's a nightmare.” I turned my neck and inch to the right to find Zachary but was stopped by a blinding pain, first aimed at my ear, shooting down my neck, causing me to contort and fall to my knees. I rocked back and forth, gripping the disturbed ear, wincing, and sucking in the cold air through my teeth. “Fuck! Fuck, what the fuck!” When I finally pried my eyes open, all I saw was Zachary looming over me with a look that was made to murder. “Why the fuck did you hit me?”

“Don’t you dare fuck up my life, you understand me?” Zachary’s tone rivaled the deadliest of ice storms, staring at me emotionless.

“What? What are you talking about?” I chased my breath while fighting off the burning sting, refusing to subside from the side of my head.

“Blair is still barely talking to me since the birthday party,” Zachary seethed, shoving his face inches from mine. “She doesn’t trust me now. Won’t forgive me for not telling her I’d been in touch with you these last few years.” Zachary straightened. “Fuck, you and I barely even spoke. It was just the occasional superficial drop-in, but she won’t hear any of it.”

I popped my brow, sitting up straight while still on the ground. “Look, Zach, I don’t know what to say anymore. I fucked up so many times I’m not even sure if saying sorry means anything to anyone anymore. But I’m determined to make things right with everyone again. Do you want me to talk to Blair and tell her it was all my fault?”

“Fuck you.” Zachary glared and started to walk away from me, heading toward the abandoned podium, splintered wood abound.

“Zachary, wait!” I called out, finally managing to regain balance. My head was pounding in echo with my pulse, but I brushed it off, focusing on catching up with Zachary. “I don’t think I ever said it before, but thank you for staying in touch with me all these years. You didn’t have to do anything, but you did. You’re a good friend even though you almost made me lose an ear just now.”

He turned sharply at that, his icy gaze fixed on me. “Does Wendy know what you do? That you’re back to your old ways with the poker games?”

My face dropped, forgetting about the throbbing ear. “I’m going to tell her. I will make this work with her, and she’ll see that I had no choice back then.”

“She probably gets it by now. But sometimes change just makes you want different things.”

I clenched my jaw, flexing my fists. It was working if Zachary wanted to tempt me to retaliate against him. Taking a step closer, unsure of my next move, I stopped when a large shadow crossed into the building, accompanied by its owner.

“Is that…” I craned my neck as I recognized our former Hulkish head of security at the poker games Zachary used to host. A life he abandoned once he committed to Blair.

Cyrus barreled in, his boots echoing through the barren building. A grave expression settled on his rugged features, shadowing the normally jovial lines around his mouth. “Vincent.” he half grinned. “Heard you were back in town.”

“Cyrus,” I replied, forcing a casualness into my tone that didn't align with the tension in my chest. “Yeah, I’m back.”

Zachary took a step back, his gaze darting between us. His brow furrowed—not in worry, but in calculation. Zachary’s mind was always working on the next move ahead of everyone else’s—a trait that made him both an asset and a threat.

“You brought security with you?” I laughed, pointing to a not-so-smiling Cyrus.

“I’m his friend, Vincent. And Zachary asked me to come,” Cyrus continued, folding his bulky arms over his chest.

“Right…” My eyes darted between Zachary and Cyrus, not believing either guy. “Well, this was fun. Always great seeing Boston…and you.” I cracked my neck, backing away from both men. “I’ll be in touch, okay?”

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