Page 5 of Faithful

I’m not sure how to respond but he’s not wrong. I read enough weird shit online to know that it’s not a lie, that he’s not being overly dramatic. There are a lot of psychos who want Kai Delisa dead.

I was one of them. Once.

Iodine’s Instagram account no longer allows users to leave comments on posts. The feature is disabled because of all the threats that started pouring in after the lighter debacle.

“I gotta go,” Kai says all of a sudden and hangs up.

I wait several minutes, hoping he’ll change his mind and call me back. He never does.

So I do the only thing I can think of–take a photo of the tulip formation on my shelf and text it to him.

* * *

On Thursday, I ask Gin to let me leave a couple of hours early so I can meet up with Leigh at her place and see the apartment she’s been eyeing for us before the leasing office closes for the day.

“Sure.” My boss nods, scanning me from behind her desk. “Everything okay with you, kiddo?”

I take the liberty of stepping into the office and shutting the door. “Yes. I’m just moving.”

“Congratulations, I guess.” She smiles a warm smile and it’s such a huge contrast to her angry face that I got to witness a little while ago when she lost her cool.

“I’m nervous.”

“How come?”

“I know you’ll probably think it’s weird. I’m twenty-three and I’m terrified of actually living on my own. But I’m mostly just worried about my mother.”

“Is she not well?”

“No. Not really.”

Gin leans back in her chair and looks at me with her kind, cunning eyes for what seems like a goddamn eternity. “It’s okay to be scared, Dylan. Age has nothing to do with it. Change is change, whether you’re eighteen, thirty, or seventy-five. And just because you won’t be under the same roof with your mom doesn’t mean you’re deserting her. You can still be there for her and have your own life. In the end, that’s really all there is to parental responsibility–to raise a child so the child gets a chance to be his own person.”

I process Gin’s words, wondering if Gavin ever got the memo on what fathers are for.

“How’s that thing going?” she asks. “That someone you were seeing? Is it still on?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

She quirks a brow. “You think so?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Because he’s a public person?”

“Exactly.”

“Alright.” She dismisses me with a wave of her hand. “I gotta get through all these emails before the end of the day. Off you go. And I’m here if you need to talk. Just not now. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Two hours later, I pull up to the small apartment complex in Madrona where Leigh has been residing by herself for the greater part of her student life.

She’s already waiting for me out in the courtyard, all grins and cheer. “I have a class in an hour, Watson. So we gotta be quick, alright?”

“Why don’t I envy you?” I give her a quick hug.

“Sometimes college just doesn’t agree with people.”

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