Chasing Impossible (Pushing the Limits, #5)(51)

It’s funny, I had been on my own for so long that I was used to being alone. Fine with just having Isaiah and Denny around on occasion in case I needed decent human interaction, but after making friends then dumping my friends...alone just feels so sickening...lonely.

“Not an option.” Denny could kill with the look he shoots me. “West’s got a lot to learn how this neighborhood works, but he’s smart. Won’t take long for him to figure it out.”

I squish my lips to the side and pick at my pancakes with the plastic fork wondering if West needs to be schooled on this way of life. He’s here because he’s curious about Denny, a man he recently found out he’s related to. West will start college this fall and then will move a long way away from here and on to having a very, very decent life.

“Kid, if you don’t eat, your dad’s going to be pissed and that’s going to make me pissed. No one likes it when I’m angry.”

I roll my eyes. “No one thinks you’re scary. You might as well be running a day care for border collies instead of a halfway house for drunks with a criminal record.”

“Everyone thinks I’m scary.” A shadow falls over his face and I do spot the demons in him that everyone else senses, but considering Satan hangs with me on a daily basis all I see are kittens bathing in sunlight.

I force the food into my mouth and down my throat, not because he’s scary but because I’ll seriously hate being hungry later when I skip dinner for the eighth time in a row to avoid my former friends. Sure, I make money, but I need it all to pay for the nurses, my grandmother’s medical bills that aren’t covered by Medicare and upkeep of the house. Acting adult and responsible sucks and it’s also expensive.

Because Denny and Dad were best friends, non blood brothers, and cared for each other in the way it counted as they grew up in this neighborhood, Denny feeds me and because I love my dad, I let Denny buy the food and I show. It makes Dad feel good that I’m relying on at least one person not related to drugs.

“I want to see him.”

Denny balls his fist, and with a deep breath, the white on his knuckles returns to pink as he releases his grip. “You’ve already seen him once this year.”

“Well, I hadn’t been shot then and I have now and that seems like something we can bond over.” Seeing my dad is the equivalent to a toddler hugging a beloved blanket during the dark of night and I’ve earned this visit.

“Visitors f*ck him up. Especially you. He’s got to keep his head in the game in there.”

My throat burns and I drink to hide any of the emotion on my face. I pretend Dad’s away on business. He left a lot as I grew up. He’d be there one day, gone the next, but he’d always return. Each day when I wake up, I reset my mind to believe he’s gone for the day and he’ll be home tomorrow. “Does he know I was shot?”

Denny rests his elbows on the bar and dips his head for a minute before lifting it to look at me. “He knows. Why do you think you’re getting pancakes today?”

The breath rushes out of me because yeah—that hurt. The same way a hot piece of steel felt entering my body.

Dad used to make pancakes for me before every big school event. Today—I was supposed to go to some sort of stupid summer school for smart people.

“That look right there, kid, that’s why I’m not in favor of you visiting your dad. You’re strong, Abigail. Stronger than most and that’s what your dad needs to see when you walk in. Gotta admit, you don’t look good. Your color’s off. You’re slow. You don’t seem to be healing right, and I can spot emotion in your eyes. That shit right there—in the world you’re dancing in—that’s got to stop. I can’t let you visit him like this. He’ll be pissed you’re hurting, and in return he’ll make somebody bleed and cause all sorts of problems for himself.”

It’s as if his words made all that I have been battling more than true, and I lay my head on the bar using my arms as a pillow. Nate says I’m not resting enough. Nadia thinks the wound on my back is getting infected. Peggy thinks I’m suffering from a broken heart.

Ricky and my bank account of a cubby demand that I make up for lost time. The latter of all that leads me to ignore all the medical advice.

“Linus thinks we might have a traitor. He thinks that person could be related to who shot me.” Which means one of the guys who is supposed to have my back might stick a knife in it and considering I already have an angry, raw wound there, I’m not overly excited about adding another.

Denny freezes and the temperature in the room drops twenty degrees. “Why the f*ck are you just telling me this now?”

My shrug the pathetic response. Denny’s not connected to my career and I shouldn’t be telling him this now, but he’s the gatekeeper between me and Dad. The admission is desperate, it’s manipulative, it’s low, but hey—Dad taught me well. “Can I see him now?”

Denny doesn’t answer but he kicks a box of liquor bottles on his way to his office. Satisfied with myself, I straighten, swivel in my seat and finish the rest of my pancakes. I may be down, but I still got game.





Logan

Isaiah: Off to be smart?

I pause midstride to answer and the guy walking behind me almost runs into me, but then goes around and enters the school building. The kid walks too damn fast with too short of a space between strides and looks like something was shoved up his ass.