Page 113 of Rugger: The Huntress

I turned around on the tips of my toes. The gap between us had lessened and I could see clearly, now. Every feature. Every strand of hair. Every protruding curve and every carving of his figure.

They reminded me so much of him. They were replicas, almost. My heart threatened to burst in my chest as the realization struck me.

“Solomon,” he confirmed, extending a hand.

As if it was diseased, I lowered my eyes to it, but couldn’t find the strength to engage. The desire was present, but I was immobile.

“I was sent an address and a name. The staff led me back here and asked me to wait for– for you, I guess.”

He kissed the skin of his teeth and sighed. His shoulders rounded as defeat covered his handsome features. I instantly regretted my temporary disability. I was incapable of moving. Incapable of speaking. I was still trying to wrap my head around what was happening.

“I could only assume you’re connected to my son. I would bet my last dollar it was a message from him. Every so often, I get these one to two sentence texts. Sometimes strange and possibly coded, but it’s him. It’s always him. There’s never a doubt in my mind it’s him. So, I need you to tell me who you are and what you mean to my son.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words emerged. Partly because I wasn’t sure what I meant to Psalms and partly because I was still processing the moment.

His phone vibrated in his hand. He pecked at the screen before turning it around to face me. In the text thread with the address and my name in a message just above it, he showed me a new one.

“Th– the world.”

I read the message out loud. The cracking of my voice forced me to acknowledge my feelings and the fact that I needed to sit before my legs gave out on me completely. My lids grew heavier, forcing me to blink.

Slowly, I reopened my eyes as inebriation made its presence known. I hadn’t sipped one drink or taken a puff of anything, yet I was utterly intoxicated. Psalms was the drink of choice.

A smile lifted his cheeks into the air. He, too, had a revelation of some sort. The change in his demeanor revealed his new level of confidence.Of comfort.

“You should have a seat,” he offered, extending his right arm toward the table.

“Y–yeah. I should.”

On wobbly legs, I cleared the distance between myself and the table. Solomon removed the chair from underneath the table and had it waiting by the time I neared it. Once settled, he pushed it up to the table and had a seat directly across from me.

Two glasses of water and a dirty martini appeared on the table. I didn’t realize the waitress had come until she was on her way out of the door.

Snap. Snap.I searched for Teddy’s voice in the midst of the madness happening in my head.

Focus, baby.

Though I was already struggling with cognizance, I reached for the martini glass and held it up against my lips. The first sip was refreshing.

“Sixteen years,” he scoffed, “I haven’t seen my son in sixteen years. Until the end of October, I hadn’t heard from him in twelve. But, he felt inclined to reach out and tell me about you.”

“What did he say?”

The words rolled out of my head and off my tongue before I could stop them. What was circulating in my head wasn’t supposed to materialize, but it had. I took another sip of the martini, hoping it would soothe my nerves.

“That he’d met a woman and that his mother would love her.”

At the thought of his mother, I began to sympathize with the man across the table. He’d lost the love of his life and his son in the same year. Though Psalms was still breathing, his absence made his father feel as though he wasn’t.

“I’d have to agree with him,” he stated, peeling the paper from his straw.

A smile teased my lips.

“He looks just like you,” I informed Solomon.

“We’re here for a reason and I–”

“We have the Chef’s Special for you,” the waitress announced, placing two plates in front of me, “Seafood edition.And, for you, sir, we have Chef’s Special–steak edition. Butters and sauces.”

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