Page 23 of Kneeling for Them
He leaves quickly, not even stopping at the espresso machine.
What the fuck is wrong with my friend?
Sebastian
It’s only when I finally escape King’s penthouse that I feel like I can take a breath.Trina has left three new text messages and a voicemail since last night.I’m glad I keep my phone on “do not disturb” during the late hours, because shit, the woman is relentless.
And every time I think about that phone call with her, where itsoundedlike she might not want to keep my secret anymore, well, I feel like fucking throwing up.
I’ve never felt less like myself.
Funnily enough, I don’t have any urge to turn to alcohol to soothe the troubling feelings inside of me.I’d rather just write lyrics, strum chords, make music.It feels healthy, that part of it.
But the twisting feeling in my gut every time I think about Trina—that’s not healthy.
The other thing that isn’t healthy is lying to my best friend.
And it’s definitely not healthy to keep secrets from the girl I’m falling in love with.
There’s work to be done, though.Ella doesn’t want to move in with one of us—fine.I mean, not fine, but I can deal with it because I’m an adult.But that means we really do have to get her apartment building up to an acceptable level of safety.
Kellan drops me off at Ella’s apartment building and then goes off to find a place to park.
I don’t have to get anyone to buzz me in, because as usual, the front door to the building isn’t closed all the way.Still, I ring for the manager.B.Crowley is his name, according to the label outside the door.
“What,” a low voice says through the speaker.
Real professional.
“I need to speak to the building manager,” I say.
“It’s too early.”
“Okay, I’ll find the landlord—”
“No, come in.Jeez.Apartment 1C.”
I go inside and find his door.As soon as I knock, he opens it and stares through the crack at me.“Who the hell are you?”
“A concerned friend of one of your residents,” I say.“Are you Crowley?”
“Yep.And I’m not letting you into anyone’s apartment.”
At least he’s doing something right.
“Not even for five hundred dollars?”I ask, testing him.
He squints.“Show me.”
Shit.Nope.We need to get rid of him.
“Let me in, we’ll talk,” I say.
Crowley steps back and opens the door.I look around his filthy apartment.It reeks of stale marijuana and spilled beer.Food wrappers and containers litter the coffee table and spill out onto the floor.A door at the other end of the room is open.As I move farther into the apartment, I catch sight of several computer monitors through that open door.Weird.Doesn’t look like he should be able to afford that kind of equipment.
Crowley catches me staring and moves to get in front of me.
“Excuse me,” I say, cheerfully shoving him aside and stalking to the room.
