Page 60 of Encounter

Ten days had passedsince that god-forsaken gig, and I was already losing my mind.Fuck Russians, fuck their stupid strongmen, and fuck trying to kill people in a damn house of mirrors. Never doingthatagain.

Not being able to do anything–anything at all–and being locked in my apartment slowly killed me. Eventually, I couldn’t help myself and drove to Gregory’s to vent.

“I swear to fucking god, I don’t need six weeks to recover,” I groaned, leaning against the bar. With his back and that stupid, curly ponytail of his facing me, Gregory ignored me, continuing with his inventory.

Sometimes, I don’t even know what his job is.

“Mmm, actually, you do. That’s the medical advice.”

“Give me somethin’—anythin’. I can do training, dealin’ even.” I was good with pain. After the initial five or six days of the worst, it quickly got to the point where I could zone it out, like I had done so many times before. “I wasn’t made to sit on my ass.”

Finally getting sick of it, Gregory put the bottle down and turned on his heel, meeting my desperate, tired eyes. “Fuck, Chast. You’re whinin’ like a damn toddler,” he mumbled, frowning at me. “It’s painfully clear you haven’t gotten your ass handed to you in way too long. This’ll remind you that you’re still mortal.”

“I’m well aware of my mortality, Greg,” I hissed at him and impatiently pointed at the very bottom shelf where the good whiskeys sat. He protested at first, but one hurt, tortured grimace from me, and Gregory rolled his eyes, reaching for it.

Thank god for booze.

“If you do, then you also know I won’t let one of my best men—thebest man—,” he stressed, while pouring me a glass, “to get back to work on a below-hundred-perfect efficiency, only to be put down by some street level thug because he didn’t let his damn ribs heal. Come on, you know well that if you get back into it too early, it’ll keep causin’ you trouble for months.”

Ugh. More hurt by the knowledge that Gregory was right, rather than the sharp pain after I downed the whiskey shot, I propped my chin against my hand.

“Fuck... Just give me another one.”

Satisfied with breaking me, Gregory smiled crookedly. “Five weeks. Then you’re back in.”

?

I more than welcomed when Galen came in for histrainingin the evening, distracting me from my own uselessness. Besides Gregory—who constantly shooed me off—and Larissa—who I couldn’t even go and see since even jerking off hurt like hell—the kid was the only person I could call.How sad is that?

As I waited for him to arrive, leaning against the open balcony-door railing, I kept hearing his worried voice when I called him last night. “How are you feeling?” he asked, right away. Usually, he was timid and slow to talk, but he completely took me back when he blurted it out.

Looking at my hand, I sighed and snubbed out the cigarette.

Better he doesn’t see me with it.Lydy always hated me smoking, too. Made me stop by putting cigarette butts into the food she gave me, the cheeky woman. It did the job.

“Keep your head straight,” I mumbled to myself. The injury was making me act stupid—I still needed to keep my distance. All of this, this entire thing with Lydy and the boy, was taking way up too much of my attention. It wasn’t healthy, but then again, nothing I did was.

Seeing the taxi turning into the street, I rubbed my face as a last wake-up call and closed the door behind me. “Alrighty. Be back in a bit.” Clenching my teeth as I bent down, I gave Kitty sleeping on the couch a good pet. “I’ll even bring the boy. You’ll like that, huh?” I smirked while standing back up.

The way she resonated with him didn’t exactly help disprove my delusions.

‘Light exercise’ it is, then.

It was probably good for Galen to get out there, too. While I got the encouraged walk in, he was going to get pushed out of his comfort zone a bit. Not to mention it was a nice day to be out and about. Not too cold, with clear skies. Made me wishI could go for a run.

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