Page 43 of Frayed Owner

“Don’t worry your pretty little head thinking about it, Homie,” Kevin teased him, my friend groaning at the nickname.

It was what I needed to hear to cut through my freak-out.

Homer and I had met in fourth grade when his family had moved and he was put in my class. We instantly bonded over the weird names we had but didn’t hate because they set us apart from the forty Brians, Johns, Mikes, and normal names we had in our school.

Plus, it was hilarious that the kid had let out a Homer Simpson-type burp as his greeting to his new class. That was someone I wanted to be friends with.

Even now, I still would. Not someone who could burp like that, but who could laugh at themselves and didn’t take things too seriously. That was the best kind of person to be friends with.

We’d been best friends ever since. We picked up our other two friends freshman year of Morrigan and we’d all stuck together and looked out for each other.

It was needed in that den of vipers where the rich ruled and normal people like us got eaten alive too often.

The house was great, way better than Kevin’s shitty apartment he rented just so Mom could have more space. We took a tour, and even with the unpacking and tornado look because five different guys were doing what they needed to, it was really an upgrade.

“Mom is going to move in with Nina,” he told me after the tour, nodding when I frowned. “For now. She just bought that big house and—it’s better. Safer for now.”

“What happened?” I worried.

“There’s been some backlash that I wasn’t punished for being corrupt. I don’t want Mom in the crosshairs, and she’s really getting along with Nina. Nina agrees Mom should move there and they’ll make it work.”

“Sergey is cool with it?” I hedged, thinking it was weird that our moms were going to live together when we wanted the same woman—share her.

“Yes, because Mom is the ultimate sweetheart and no one could ever turn her down. Plus, he’s worried about Nina being there all alone all of the time when it’s so different from what she’s used to. They’ve had some backlash too. I don’t know the details, but—he’s worried about Nina.”

“Okay, yeah, good. I’m glad then. What can I do to help?”

He patted my shoulder and brought us into the dining room, passing around beers that someone had brought along with food. “Nothing. Just box up and move whatever you still have at Mom’s. Some we might stick in storage and don’t be pissed that you can’t go home like before. You can always come here or—”

“It’s fine. As long as there’s somewhere for me to go in the summer—whatever Mom needs,” I told him firmly.

“Good.” He waited until I had a long drink of my beer. “So what do you need?” He nodded when I hesitated. “You’re not okay, Kel. So what do you need to make this easier—process what happened?”

I didn’t know how to answer that. Not to be difficult, but because… Was there an answer for it?

“He feels guilty about the familiar dying,” Homer snitched, shrugging when Kenny smacked him upside the head. “What? He’s having trouble figuring out what’s up with him. I get that. I’m messed up for him, but let’s start with the easiest to handle.”

“Agreed,” Kevin said firmly. “That wasn’t your fault. I wanted that familiar dead too. It was the easiest way to take on Charles. There are a thousand people who probably wished for that familiar to die. You didn’t do it. You didn’t do this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He gave me a hard look. “And neither did she. She is just as much of a victim as I am. She’s theherofor coming to save me, not the reason this happened. You are not the reason this happened. Charles Shaw is. Not you.”

He repeated it a few more times until I covered my face and silently cried.

That was how the dam finally broke and I truly started to process what happened—thatit happened even.

The woman I was dating, her father put a hit out on my brother to punish her for getting free of her family. It was so crazy that it took all of this time to process it. It was like an insane mob movie plot that a studio would write off as too over the top.

Well, maybe not with today’s culture.

But it should have been. That was insane.

And yet, it was my life.

Yeah, the dam broke hard… Or however that statement worked.

The floodgates?

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