Page 41 of Alpha & Omega

When I got home in the early evening, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. Between losing Harley and the shit he did, Ajax, my finances… I probably needed to get back into therapy. My mental state was starting to splinter. At least I had insurance for it, so I didn’t have to worry about the money for that. But where to find the time?

I made a quick salami sandwich with mustard, cheddar, and lettuce. Before I took a bite, my phone buzzed. I lifted it to find not only Tony calling, but a slew of text messages from Harley. I really needed to block him.

“Hey,” I said when I answered.

“Hey, back. I’m calling for our weekly chat.”

I huffed a laugh. “You couldn’t be calling at a better time.”

“Uh, oh. What’s going on?”

“First, how are you doing? Feeling okay?”

“King, you don’t need to be the one to check on everyone else. It’s okay if we check on you, too.”

I sighed, set the phone on the counter, and turned on the speaker so I could eat. I took a bite of my sandwich and, with a full mouth, said, “I’m just stressed out. So much shit is hitting the fan at once.”

“What’s happened? Can you elaborate?”

“If it’s not one thing, it’s another. You remember Ajax, my wild one, right?”

“Yeah?”

“He just got diagnosed with bipolar disorder. When he was in his manic phase, he blew through his savings, and today, we found him suicidal, so we had to rush him to the ER.”

Tony whistled on the other end. “Shit, man… Fuck, that’s scary.”

“Damn right it was. If Ajax hadn’t been with Blaze, this guy he’s been seeing, I’m not sure what would’ve happened. I could’ve lost him, Tony.”

“But you didn’t.”

“There’s always a chance it could happen again. He has to live with this for the rest of his life. They stabilized him with mood enhancers and antidepressants,and now he’s got to go into some intense therapy. But I had to cover his hospital bill. My guys just keep getting hurt, and I end up footing the bill for most of it because they don’t have the money or insurance. The fucking health care system in this country is fucked. I try to pay them what I can, but it’s never enough. And if I want to pay them more, I can’t because I’m getting behind on my rent and insurance payments.”

I sighed again, shoving away my food, no longer hungry. “I’m sorry for that word vomit.”

Tony was right. I really needed someone to talk to. Therapy it was. I wrote a note to remind myself to reach out to my doctor.

“It’s okay, King. I’m here if you need to talk.”

“You’ve got enough shit to deal with.”

“Dammit! I’m here for you, too. You’re not alone, you stubborn, sacrificial bastard.”

I laughed. “Telling me like it is, eh?”

“We’re both good at tough love.”

“Honestly, you have no idea how relieved I am that you called me. Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I needed this.”

“Any time. I don’t usually have sage advice like you do, but I’ve got ears. Now, how are you and Harley?”

I leaned back on my counter and scrubbed my face, feeling the frustration growing again. “There is no Harley and me. He went behind my back to look at my credit reports for my bar and offered to help me out by joining businesses. At first, I thought he had played me, but now that I’m rational again, I know he wasn’t trying to hurt me, but fuck, I don’t appreciate him sneaking around like that. I don’t trust him now.”

“Your worries are valid, man. He shouldn’t have done that. Have you talked to him since?”

“No, but he keeps trying to talk to me, and I don’t want to. I’m over this dating thing, and I don’t have time for it, anyway.”

“If you say so. It’s your life.”

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