Page 74 of Liar & Champion
He glanced at Trix with brows raised. “This is good, Trix. You’ve been holding out on me. Would your mother agree to join the team?”
Trix rolled her eyes. “She asked you a question. That reminds me, my mom would like a signed photograph of you bare-chested, with the smile that has the most dimples. She thinks he has the cutest dimples.”
He turned his attention back on me, but he was still smiling slightly. “I agreed for the autonomy. My mother signed a statement assuring me that if I date a woman from her alma mater for six months, she won’t interfere with my business in any way forever. She’s got a lot of sway with government bodies, so for awhile there she was making it difficult for me to run my business at all.”
“That’s it? You just wanted her to leave you alone? What about money? Position? Power?”
He shrugged and stabbed his noodles a few times. “I’ve got my own money, position, and power. I don’t want hers. I don’t like the way she messes with other people’s lives. That’s not my method.”
“And I was the lucky one you picked because you saw how much I needed saving? Huh.” That’s it? He just wanted to be free to live his own life? And also, he’d spent his own hard-earned money that he made with his fists, charisma, and killer business sense to buy me a kitchen and an art studio? Was I going to cry? Maybe. Also, Horse was on drugs if he thought Nix wasn’t the best person in the world. He’d taken what he’d been taught in his childhood and made his own life, using what he knew, his violence, to protect instead of hurt. Other than the fighters who chose to be in the ring with him, of course. They were screwed.
“Hopefully at the end of the six months, you’ll be up to saving yourself,” he said with another flash of his dimple.
“And that’s the full truth?”
“There are always more details, such as what exactly my mother’s business is that I don’t like, but that’s the gist of it. I wouldn’t want to turn your stomach when we’ve got Trixie’s mother’s meatballs on the table.”
I gripped my fork and stared at my dinner while my stomach churned. He was determined to keep our agreement no matter what I said. “So, in the interest of full disclosure, you should probably know that I might not be able to do a full six months.” I could do honesty. Right? Maybe. I wasn’t a pathological liar. I could be honest if it was important. Coming clean was the only thing that made sense, and might make him finally see sense.
“Why’s that? Do you have a job or internship lined up? Are you planning on going abroad? I can come with you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t come with me.”
His smile disappeared, and his eyes looked hurt.
“And before then, it might get uncomfortable for you to be around me. You aren’t a home health specialist, however good you feel. I’m not saying this well. I don’t talk about it, ever, because, well, I just don’t. I’m sick. No, I’m not sick. I’m dying.”
Nix stared at me for a beat too long and then took a big bite of noodles and meatballs. Okay then. I took a shaky breath, loaded up my fork, and took another bite. I’d never had my death confession greeted with so much silence and hunger. It was the best reaction yet.
“What are you dying from?” he asked once he’d finished his bite, but he said it politely, like what did I think about the weather?
“It’s a genetic disease. Actually, it’s about twelve diseases, half of them fatal, that combine in a truly special cocktail.”
“And your timeline? You might not make the full six months?”
“Six months to a year, more or less. You’re taking this really well. Must be the way you’re always spitting in the face of death, the Hobbes as it were.”
“Right. And you’re a stoic because you suffer in silence. You couldn’t complain about how you felt because that wouldn’t be silent enough.”
I squinted at him. “Are you making fun of me?”
“And the other part, Sen’s Capability Approach, that’s where you take all the pain, because there must be heaps of pain or you wouldn’t have so much morphine in your medical aid kit, and try to minimize it in others around you. People like me, those who enjoy the pain, multiply the pain, spread it around and profit off it, they’re filling the world with more of what you hate and have to deal with every day. That’s why you hate what I do, because it gets in the way of your empathy. You care about the pain of others because of how much pain you have to deal with.”
I opened my mouth and closed it. He was surprisingly on target. “I don’t have that much morphine.”
He gave me a half-smile. “You had enough of that morphine cocktail to knock me out for two days. I’m so glad we figured out the roots of our philosophical approaches. I was definitely puzzling over it.”
“Well, I’m so glad that you’ve got the pieces of your puzzle.” I frowned at him. “You’re supposed to express a sense of regret when you hear about my impending doom.”
He smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I apologize for my lack of sensitivity, but you’re a stoic. You don’t want sympathy, you want to suffer in silence.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “And your philosophy, life’s short, and brutal goes along perfectly with it. You’d be fine with a death sentence.”
“Naturally. Any other issues we need to air out?”
I looked at Trix who gave me a closed-mouth smile because her face was full of spaghetti, then looked back at Nix. “I can’t think of any.”
He raised a hand. “Actually, I’d like to know your real motives for going through with all of this. If you’re dying, would you be truly motivated by fear of your stalker?”
