Page 69 of Too Late

He also told me the guy was an addict, he was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic, and he had a shitload of other issues. I hate to say it, I have a little sympathy for Asa somewhere deep down inside. There’s no telling what he went through as a child with that man as a father. But sympathy is as far as it goes. You can sympathize with someone and still wish they were dead.

I keep the information about his father’s condition to myself. I think it’s good that Asa is worried about repercussions. It’s not something he probably experiences very often.

Asa sighs after flipping through all the news channels twice and coming up empty. He stands up and throws the remote toward Jon. “You guys make sure and wash your hands. My fiancée worked hard cooking this dinner and I don’t want any of you fuckers seated at my table with filthy hands.” He heads to the stairs and runs up to his room. His bedroom door closes, and I glance at Kevin, who is staring at the empty stairs.

“He’s being really fucking weird,” Kevin says.

Jon begins flipping through the channels and says, “What’s new?”

Neither one of them bothers going to the kitchen to wash their hands, so I use the opportunity to walk in there. Sloan is pulling the meatloaf out of the oven when I pass her. “Hey, Sloan,” I say casually.

She looks at me, but doesn’t smile. She shoots me a look that tells me we need to talk. There’s just not really a way to do that right now. I turn the water on and she walks the meatloaf to the counter next to me. She sticks a knife between the loaf and the pan and begins working it loose.

“I messed up today,” she whispers.

I turn the water to a lower pressure so I can hear her better.

“I found out he’s been lying to me about my brother’s benefits. I confronted him. Told him I was leaving him. He got really angry.”

“Sloan,” I say quietly.Why the hell would she do that?“Are you okay?”

She shrugs. “I am right now. But something is off with him, Carter. I’m scared. He sat in the shower with his clothes on for half an hour. Then when I got home from the grocery store, I looked out the window and saw him sitting on a lounge chair, staring at the pool. Then he just started slapping his palm against his forehead. He did it thirty-six times. I counted.”

Jesus Christ.

She glances up at me and I hate how scared she looks. I should just take her now. Grab her hand, pull her outside while he’s upstairs, and get her the fuck out of here.

“Now he keeps saying he has a surprise for me. He’s talking like this dinner is some kind of celebration,” she whispers. “I’m scared to find out what it is we’re celebrating.”

Asa’s footsteps move overhead, like he’s about to head downstairs. Sloan grabs the pan of meatloaf and walks it to the table.

The other two guys must hear Asa heading downstairs as well, because they’re at the sink now, preparing to wash their hands like he instructed.

We help Sloan carry the rest of the food to the table, just as Dalton walks through the front door. It’s only 6:55, but he sees Asa bounding down the stairs and he apologizes for being late.

“You aren’t late,” Asa says. “You’re right on time.”

I take a seat, and it ends up being directly across from Asa. Diagonal from Sloan. It’s oddly quiet as everyone passes around the food, divvying it onto their plates. Once all the food has been passed around the table, Asa grabs his fork and says, “Should we say grace?”

No one speaks. We all just stare at him, wondering if he’s kidding or if someone needs to start praying before he flips his shit.

He laughs loudly and says, “You stupid fucks.” He shoves his fork into his mashed potatoes and swallows a bite.

Jon says, “This is twice in a row we’ve had dinner here. What gives? Is this what happens when you become domesticated?”

Asa narrows his eyes in Jon’s direction, then washes his mashed potatoes down with his beer. “Where’s Jess tonight?”

Jon shrugs. “Haven’t seen her in a few days. I think we broke up.”

Asa chuckles, then he looks at me. “Where’s Tillie?”

I run my thumb across my bottom lip. “Working. She might stop by tomorrow night.”

Asa licks his lips, taking another sip of his beer. “That would be nice,” he says. Then he looks at Dalton. “How come you’ve never brought a girl over?”

Dalton speaks with a mouthful of meatloaf. “She lives in Nashville.”

Asa nods and says, “What’s her name?”

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