you. I know you as well as you know yourself.”
He tenses, his whole body stiff as a board, veins bulging in his neck. He stares for a long time, running calculations through his head, then finally, he relaxes a little and waves an arm out to the couch next to him. “Just fucking sit down before I change my mind.”
My heart comes alive. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a moment like this. Where I went to bat and fought for something, took a risk this huge, and finally had the perseverance pay off. My stomach is still churning because of Rick and the situation, but I finally have a little bit of hope, like maybe things are about to be clearer. At least then I’ll know the truth and can actually make a decision to cut my losses or see this through with Rick. I just want to know what he’s up against.
I walk over and take a seat, but I don’t let up on Covington. Not so much as a smile or a thank you. I don’t want to give him any breathing room, no escape route to get out of this. I take a seat on his couch, back straight, good posture, ready to listen.
Covington sits there for a bit, then finally sighs, and says, “After you chased Rick down at his apartment and damn near broke the man in half—”
“You know about that?”
“Are you going to let me finish? Assume I know everything you know, plus infinitely more, to speed this conversation along.”
I almost want to laugh, but I don’t. I wave an arm forward like carry on.
“Anyway, right before that happened, Rick came to me with a proposition.”
“He-he did?”
Wells nods. “I was as surprised as you are right now.” Wells looks away. “Fuck, you’re making me break a promise. I never betray good people. It’s a code of business. It’s how I get them to trust me. It’s a long-term investment, how you build lifelong relationships without getting fucked over, and even then, it still happens.”
Before I can stop myself, I ask, “Why are you telling me then?”
A silence stretches between us, like his theatrics are off, and he’s calculating again, measuring his responses. “Because I like Rick. Or I at least respected him after he came to me and his story became clearer. I only had bits and pieces from my own research, but enough to leverage Decker with. An asshole move, yes, but it was not without provocation.” His eyes burn into mine when he says it.
I was just doing my job, researching him and reporting to Decker, but I’m sure he doesn’t see it that way.
“But, believe it or not, I like you, even though you’ve barged into my house unannounced in the middle of the night, I know your intentions are pure. And Rick did something for me, so I want to do something for him in return. Because I believe his calculations are severely misguided at the moment, even though they are understandable. He’s in an emotional state, and nothing good comes of that when you’re making choices that affect your livelihood.”
“What did he tell you?”
“Everything he wanted to tell you but couldn’t. And he had a mutually beneficial plan for both of our problems.”
Bile creeps into my throat. “Why couldn’t he tell me whatever it is?”
Wells rolls his eyes. “Use your head, Mary. He was scared. It’s what happens to men when we cling to something we don’t want to lose.”
“I wouldn’t have judged him for anything. I would’ve stuck by him.”
“You don’t even know what it is yet. And I need to preface this by saying he did intend to tell you, very soon, at least that’s what he said to me. Shortly after, something happened, and now, he’s like a dumb chivalrous knight trying to protect you. Like I said, men do ignorant things when they’re emotional.”
I’m tired of his stalling and don’t care about his insults. I don’t need the suspense, or a lecture. I can make up my own mind. “What is it?”
He sighs. “I already told you his real name. He grew up in Detroit, raised by his father. The mother split early to get away from the abuse, and his father hated women after that. He watched his dad use them for sex then throw them out, threaten them, degrade them.” He nods. “Yeah, his father is a fucking piece of work, from everything he told me and from what I’ve seen.