Page 51 of A Breath of Life
“Don’t you check to see who’s calling before answering the phone?”
“That would require opening my eyes, and that is a task I couldn’t manage if I wanted to.” The last part of the sentence ended with a yawn.
“What if I was your mother?”
“Then she would have learned her lesson about calling me at the ass crack of fucking dawn. Bitch, what the fuck time is it? Why do you hate me?”
I checked the wall clock over the door. “It’s a quarter after nine. Good grief, stop being lazy and get up. I’m having a level ten emergency, and I need you.”
“Babe, I don’t work today, and I didn’t get home until after two. I’m hungover, and my ass hurts. Remember that acoustic guitarist from the café?”
“I told you he wasn’t straight.”
Memphis hummed with pleasure. “The man is a cock sucking god, among other things. I’m fucking wrecked after one night with him. Girl, I swear to you, I don’t think I can walk.”
“As much as I’d love all the deets—”
“Liar.”
“I’m having a mini-crisis. Scratch that. A major crisis, and I need you.”
Memphis groaned. The shuffling on the other end of the line suggested he was burrowing deeper into the blankets. “Talk. I’ll try to stay awake, but I’m literally just an ear right now. The advice center is closed until further notice.”
I rounded the counter and powered up the computer as I explained about Diem’s and my fight, his disappearance and reappearance the following day, battered and bruised and acting suss as shit.
“It’s sketch, isn’t it?” I typed my password when the login screen appeared.
Memphis hummed noncommittally.
“Are you listening? He’s in full combat mode today. Outfit and fucking concealed knife notwithstanding, he’s shadowing me like I’m someone’s target and won’t explain anything.”
“Did he report it?”
I scoffed. “Are you serious? This is Diem we’re talking about. He didn’t even go to the hospital, and the lump on the back of his head is the size of a watermelon. What do I do?”
“Honestly, if a bunch of guys managed to subdue your tank of a boyfriend and used him as a punching bag, maybe he has every right to be concerned for your tiny twinkish ass, and you should listen.”
“I’m not a twink. The point is, if he would explain it to me, I’d be more apt to stop arguing, but he won’t tell me shit.”
“It will blow over, Tallus. The wounds are fresh, and your man is his own flavor of psycho.”
“Don’t call him that.”
“He’s probably acting paranoid because he’s still shaken from the incident. Someone got the jump on him. Whoever it was—”
“They. He saidmen, notman.”
“Whoevertheywere probably made idle drunken threats. He’s still buzzing. Let him play the overprotective boyfriend for a few days as the adrenaline wears off. He’ll get over it and realize there is nothing to fear, and your life will return to normal… or whatever normal looks like when you date a guy like Diem.”
I sulked as I clicked on the email icon to see if there were requests for files I would need to dig out of the crypts and deliver. I wanted to tell Memphis about the card, but Diem would have my head. Besides, if I wasn’t allowed to find a buyer, what was the point? I didn’t feel like listening to my best friend give me shit for not standing my ground and snatching an opportunity to make a shit ton of cash.
“Can I go back to bed?”
“No. I need you. I’m emotional, and Diem was not a cuddle bear this morning.”
Memphis groaned. “I don’t know how to help you, and I’m tired.”
“Tell me about your guitar player.”
