Page 55 of Knight

He starts to get up and leave. Before he passes through the door, he turns around and throws me the flash drive. “Don’t worry. I have plenty of copies.”

I stare out the window in stunned silence. I could care less about this video as it pertains to me, but I can’t let this happen to Darian. It would humiliate her. Her daughters would see it. Ugh. What a disaster.

I don’t know what to do. My head is spinning. Should I tell her? If it were any other deal, I would just kill it. But I don’t think I can kill this one. The donation paperwork has been filed to transfer ownership to the state government. It would hurt so many people if I were to kill it. I don’t think I’m even legally allowed to withdraw it if I wanted to.

I don’t know how to handle this. I get up and walk out my door, telling Donna that I’m not feeling well and leaving for the day. I head home, picking up several bottles of whiskey on the way. We won’t get through this. She’s going to blame me. I’m going to lose her.

* * *

DARIAN

I haven’t heard from Jackson in two days. It’s very unlike him. He barely goes two hours without texting me, let alone two days. We haven’t gone two nights sleeping without each other in several weeks. I’ve sent texts and left voicemails. There’s been no response. Something is wrong.

I decide to call his office and Donna answers. “Hey Donna, it’s Jackson’s friend Darian.”

“Hey dear. How lovely to hear from you. What can I help you with?”

“Can I speak with Jackson? Is he there?”

“I’m afraid he’s been out sick the past few days. He didn’t tell you?”

“No, I haven’t been able to get a hold of him. No worries. I’ll just bring some soup to his house and check in on him.” I feel a lot better knowing he’s sick, and that’s why I haven’t heard from him. I’m not sure why he wouldn’t just tell me though.

“Okay, dear. Tell him to feel better. It must be pretty bad because he hasn’t checked in here.” That’s weird.

“I will. Thanks, Donna.”

I pick up some chicken noodle soup from the local deli and head toward Jackson’s house. When I arrive, I ring the doorbell, but no one answers. He’s probably in bed sleeping. I have the code. I’ll just go in.

As I walk into the main living area, I’m in shock at what I see. It’s trashed. And it smells horrible. There are whiskey bottles everywhere. It looks like a frat house on a Sunday morning.

There, passed out on the floor in his boxer shorts, with an empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, is Jackson. I run over to him. “Jackson! Jackson! Wake up!” Nothing. I have tears streaming down my face. This is how I found Scott.

I lean down to feel his neck for a heartbeat. As soon as I do, his arms wrap around me. His eyes are still closed, but his arms squeeze me tight. “Yum, I smell Darian. She smells so yummy. I have a secret. But don’t tell her. I love her so much, but she’s going to hate me soon. She’s going to leave me when she finds out.”

What’s he talking about? At least he’s alive. Barely.

I shake him hard. “Jackson, wake up!”

He opens his eyes. They’re glassy. “Hey bootyful. Whas you doon heeeere?” He’s smashed. I’ve never seen him smashed.

“Come on. You stink. Let’s get you in the shower and try to sober you up.” I somehow manage to get him up. His arm is hanging lifelessly around me as I struggle to move him toward his bedroom and the shower.

He kisses my cheek. “Darian, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He grabs one of my boobs. “With the best tits in the world. I want to live in them.”

“Okay, Romeo. Let’s get you undressed and in the shower.”

“Only if you get undressed with me, sexy.” He starts to pull up my shirt. I pull it back down and roll my eyes. He’s a mess.

I manage to get his clothes off and get him in the shower. He curls up on the floor of the shower. I grab the handheld and shoot him with cold water. After about twenty minutes of that, I help him into bed. He’s spread out naked on top of the covers. Just before he passes out, he mumbles, “I love you, Darian. Please don’t leave me. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry.” He then passes out.

What the hell is going on?

I spend the next few hours cleaning up his house. It was a total mess. I start the coffee machine, and a little while later he comes down in his boxer briefs and a t-shirt. His hair is sticking up all over the place, but he otherwise looks much better.

I hand him a large cup of coffee, as he sits at the kitchen table. I give him a few sips before I break the silence. “Jackson, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

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