Page 41 of Turning Tides
The sound of my phone ringing jolted me out of my head and I sloshed coffee on my hand.
“Fucker.” I set my coffee down and wiped my hand on my jeans as I fumbled for my phone. I’d used my cell number as my business number. I figured if I wanted a non-business phone, I could always get a different phone later on if things picked up.
“Bullseye Body Art, Archer speaking.”
“Archer…”
White-hot rage shot through me at the sound of Clayton’s voice.
“You have a lot of fucking nerve, Clay.”
“I’m sorry, okay. I was stupid.”
“Whatever you want, the answer is no. It’s no and fuck you. You ruined my fucking life, Clay. What the fuck, man. You were my best friend.” I hated the way my voice cracked giving away just how much I still gave a shit. The wounds he’d inflicted hadn’t really begun to heal. I thought they had, but the sound of his voice took the strength from my knees and I had to hold onto the counter to stop myself from crumpling to the floor.
“You managed to land on your feet.” Clayton dismissed my suffering, the shit he’d caused, as though it were nothing and no big deal. Clayton had always been like that. If the end result was fine,then nothing that happened before that mattered. I used to find it charming, how he could go with the flow like that, but there was nothing charming about the way I wanted to tear his head off and shit down his neck.
“How fucking dare you. I lost everything. No, I didn’t lose it—you stole it from me. The shop. My fucking income. I had to move in with Cyrus and Marshall.” The one decent thing he’d done was not steal my equipment when he took off.
“Turned out okay, though.” Clayton’s voice wavered.
“Why are you calling, Clayton?”
“I need help.”
I scoffed. “You called the wrong person. You really think I want to help you after all the shit you pulled?”
“Archer, they’re going to fucking kill me, okay. I—I fucked up.”
“No shit. But you expect me to believe someone is going to kill you? I fucking might if I ever see you again.”
“Archer, please!” Only the frantic tone in his voice had me pausing. “I’m not lying. Or exaggerating. I need money or a place to hide. Something.”
I abandoned my coffee on the counter and went to sit in front of the window. “Who wants to kill you and why? Did you rip them off too?”
The silence gave me my answer.
“You’re fucking joking, right? You rip me off. Then you turn around and rip off someone else, and not once did you ever stop to think, gee, maybe this will make people mad? You’re a piece of shit, Clayton.”
“It was a loan shark, okay?” Clayton blurted. “I got a hot tip on a horse and I was going to make a mint, okay? But it didn’t work out.And I lost my shirt. And the more I tried to fix things, the bigger mess I got in, okay?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Clayton. You don’t do shit halfway, do you? And what kind of money do you think I have? I’ve had to start from scratch.”
“Archer, please.” Clayton was near tears and part of me ached. I’d never heard him so upset, but it all sounded like just another con job. He’d fooled me once already by pretending to be my friend.
“I don’t doubt that you’re in some kind of trouble, Clayton, but if you’d really wanted my help, you should have asked before you cleaned me out and walked away. I have nothing left to give you.” Without another word, I ended the call and blocked the number.
The conversation left me feeling weak and shaky. Had I done the right thing? My phone buzzed in my hand and my stomach twisted until I saw Cyrus’s name flash up on the screen. Relief washed over me so fast I nearly cried. Cyrus would know if I’d done the right thing. It didn’t feel like I had, but that might be nostalgic feelings for someone who’d been my best friend poking at my conscience, making me feel guilt when I had nothing to feel guilty about.
It dawned on me that I’d forgotten to answer the phone when it stopped buzzing in my grip. I quickly called him back.
“Hey, are you busy tonight?” Cyrus asked when he answered.
“Clayton called.”
“That son of a bitch!” Cyrus spat. “Okay, I was going to ask if you wanted to come out tonight, but now you’re not getting the option. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
