Page 17 of Downfall

Kolson

Myfeetwereleadas I left Abby’s apartment. I had to force myself to keep walking, no matter how wrong it feels to not be with her, to hold her in my arms and keep her forever. I almost turned back—I even hesitated in the doorway—but it’s for the best.

Afterward, I wandered the streets of Downtown, eventually making it back to my apartment at dusk to grab some supplies for the night.

Tonight, I’m back on the streets. I finally do what I should have months ago and move a couple of blocks over. The walking traffic isn't as heavy here, but my regulars know how to reach me.

Leaving Abby was only the first step in the plan I decided on this morning as I waited for Abby outside of Viv’s restaurant. This will be my last week dealing. I’m out. I just need to get rid of the supply I have and talk to my suppliers. My gut is telling me it’s not going to be just that easy to get out of my arrangement with them, but I’ll figure it out.

This afternoon, I made some calls, and next week, I start a high-intensity coding bootcamp. After my failed attempt at college life, I know it’s not for me. The bootcamp will keep me busy all day, every day for a couple of months, but will also give me the skills I need to move forward with an actual career. I haven’t yet decided if I will work for someone else or work with Ryan to start that business, but either way, I know it will take me one step closer to Abby.

I didn’t tell her I will be back for her, but she is my real future, my end goal. She’s mine, and once I’m worthy of her, we will be together again.

I have enough money in savings to get by for about six months, and if I need to, I can cash out some of my investments. Since I started dealing, I’ve been squirreling away every dollar I could for a rainy day, and that day has come.

“Hey, dude!” I hear someone holler from down the block. When they move under a streetlight on their way toward me, I see it’s Ryan. He looks tired as fuck, like he hasn’t slept in a week. I guess I haven’t really heard from him since the other night.

“Hey, what’s up?” I say as he approaches. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Kole. I really needed that positivity today, fucker. But I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to let you know that Hazel is moving in with me, so you may be seeing her around more often.” I can see from the look of annoyance on his face that I must be making a real offensive face at his news, so I quickly school it back into a neutral mask.

“That’s great,” I say as indifferently as I can. “What brought that on? You guys have only been dating like two months, right?”

“I can tell you aren’t thrilled. Hell, just the other night I was telling you it wasn't going to get serious between us… But she had to quit her job because her boss was a dick, and she doesn’t really have anywhere else to go right now.”

“She worked at the Fox Hole?” Just like with Abby, I couldn't care less that his girlfriend is a stripper. What I care about is that the couple of times I’ve met her, she was a total bitch, and I would hate to lose my best friend to that cunt. I also need to know more about the boss being a dick since Abby works there.

“Yeah. He ended up getting pissed that I was hanging around there, so I feel kind of responsible, too. I told her she didn’t need to quit and that I could just stop coming in, but she’s pretty set on not dancing anymore and moving in until she’s back on her feet. I’m sure she’ll find something new and move out soon. I'm not ready for anything that serious.”

“Alright, man. I just hope you know what you’re doing. Chicks like her are hard to shake once they have their claws in you. Don’t let her talk you into marriage or some shit.”

“Oh, fuck no. Marriage is the last thing on my mind. Actually, I can’t stop thinking about you and me starting our fucking business already. You think anymore about going back to school? I’m ready to get out on our own,” he says, and now I’m glad he’s here because I have actual good news to share with him. Not like his shitty news.

“Yes, actually. I start a coding bootcamp on Monday, so I might be MIA for a few weeks. Let’s talk after and figure out where to go from there.”

“Fuck, dude, that’s awesome! I’ve been waiting for you to get your head out of your ass for so long. Anything in particular bring on this change of heart?” I don’t lie to Ryan, and if my future plans, including the parts regarding Abby, are going to work, I’ll need him to have my back.

“I guess we are both all about positivity tonight. And, well, I met someone.” His eyebrows raise, but I continue before he has a chance to say something irritating. “She’s the woman I’m going to marry. And before you say shit, I’m not getting married anytime soon, either, and you won’t even meet her for a while. I don't have anything to offer her ‘with my head in my ass’,” I say, mocking his insult. “She's worth sorting out my shit, and I’m finally ready.”

Chapter 14

Abby

One year later

It’saMondaymorning,and as always, I am dreading the day as I walk the six blocks to Mitchell and Associates. Gripping my paper coffee cup a bit tighter, I shiver, mad at myself for not checking the weather before leaving without a jacket this morning.

December in San Diego is amazing most of the time. A few years ago, it was ninety degrees on Christmas, but this morning, fifty degrees feels like twenty, and my sour mood isn’t helping.

Last night, I got a text from my dad, the first in almost a year, requesting that I meet him for lunch today. I’m not sure what to make of it, and I can only hope that his wife won’t grace me with her presence, as well.

My stepmother, Lydia, has been around since a month after my mom died, and within a year, my dad was married again, and Lydia was pregnant with my first sibling. Now, they have three, and her talons are firmly embedded in my father and his bank account.

I never really realized growing up that we had money. My mom always made sure I had what I needed, but I wasn’t spoiled. It wasn’t until Lydia became a permanent fixture in our home that I got a glimpse of my father’s true wealth.

She redecorated our—admittedly—large house in gaudy furnishings and extravagant artwork. When I was sixteen and she chose a crib for my brother’s nursery that cost almost ten thousand dollars, I asked her if her family was wealthy. She didn’t work, so I assumed she must have a trust fund or something. Laughing, she had said to me, “God, Abby, you are so humble. Myhusbandhas given me free rein to buy what I want, and that’s what I’ll do. My children will know they are rich and powerful; humility is for the poor.”

Once I went off to college, I rarely had to see them. I would stop by for holidays, but wouldn’t stay for dessert. And if I had a chance to go home with a friend instead, I would take it. I had a great relationship with my dad growing up, but once Lydia came into the picture, he hardly acknowledged me anymore, let alone made an effort.

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