Page 54 of Elusive

“Why are you asking? Is P okay or not? What the hell’s going on?”

“I already told you, she’s fine. I’m out grabbin’ us something to eat while she takes a shower. Don’t change the subject. Tell. Me. Why.” Don’t you dare lie to me again, man.

“I honestly don’t know, I swear. Don’t you think if I did, I’d do something about it?”

“Bullshit!” I roar, tempted to steer this fucking truck north and go kick his ass. “Your family tells each other everything. No way in hell it’s gone unnoticed, or unaddressed, that there’s something severely off with Presley. I know you’re all about ‘our private business’ and shit, but not today. Not ever again. Not about this, her. I mean it, J, quit fuckin’ lying to me, or I swear to God…” I inhale until my lungs burn for release, trying to remind myself that bees are best caught with honey, not boisterous, threatening vinegar, and slowly exhale. “Just,” my voice’s a bit calmer, “tell me the truth. I’m not kidding, last chance.”

“You need to step way the fuck back, dude.” He dishes out some vinegar of his own. “I don’t know what’s got you all wound up, thinking you can come at me like this, but I’m gonna give you about five damn seconds to reel it in before I tell ya to go fuck yourself. Listen good, Sutton. I. Don’t. Know. I’ve begged her to tell me more times than I can count. She never has, not a single word. None of us know. I love Presley. I’d die for her. So, if I had the slightest clue how to help her, I would. Bank on that shit. Sounds to me like you might actually know more than I do. And, learned nothing your first go-round, getting all attached again. Maybe worse this time.”

He’s not wrong; I’m beyond redemption or detachment — unconcerned with the fact that self-inflicted wounds always hurt the worst. He’s also telling the truth — he really is clueless. Unbelievable. I woulda bet an internal organ on their family having no secrets. Every interaction I’ve had with the loving group of lunatics would suggest that nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, is too inappropriate or humiliating to share with the whole class. Apparently, I was wrong. And now, not only do I need to apologize to JT, but I have to throw him off scent. This will be a solo hunt.

“I lose ya, asshole?”

“Nah,” my laugh’s a dry effort. “I was just thinking. Listen, I’m sorry, man. Shouldn’t have jumped ya like that. Rough night, not enough sleep, frustrated as fuck I can’t reach her. There’s no excuse, which is what all those were,” I chuckle lightly, “but yeah, my bad. Sorry.”

“Got it. First and second time, Rainman. We’re good. I get your frustration, believe me. You’ve only had a small dose of it. I’ve had a lifetime. Then again, your dick’s directing half your reaction and I don’t have that problem, so guess that makes us even. Warnin’ ya though, better chill out before heading back with the food. If you’re on ten, P’ll rise right the fuck up to meet ya.”

“I hear that,” this laugh’s authentic. “I’ve seen her plenty salty. Lemme’ let ya go, get her fed so I don’t have to see it again.”

“Yup,” he clips and hangs up… not that I blame him.

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