“Have fun?” I asked.
“Yeah. Good night. Great night, actually.”
“Good,” I muttered.
She was silent.
Then she asked, “You still drinking?”
“I think drunk off my f**king ass, passed out by noon, missing helping out Charlene for the first time since Dan the Douchebag took off on her and seriously hanging by three is enough. I’m laying off the sauce.”
At least for the night.
“Charlene got worried. Came over. You were passed out. She had to get back to work so it was her that called Knight,” Anya told me.
I nodded to the window and took another drag from my cigarette, blowing the smoke out the screen.
“Sylvie, please talk to me,” she whispered.
I could trust her and it was time. I did it more because I could trust her and less because it was time. All I knew was, I had to unload this shit on somebody, she was available and, lucky me, I could trust her.
Therefore, I asked, “Knight tell you about me?”
“Will you be angry at Knight if I say yes?”
“No.”
“Then yes.”
I nodded, took another drag then reached to my side and crushed out the cigarette. “So he told you about Creed.”
“I’ll admit, I got the recent update.” Then quieter, “He was worried about you, Sylvie, and apparently, there was a reason for him to worry.”
“There’s about one thing Knight Sebring could do that would piss me off and that’s f**king you over so don’t worry about me being mad at him because you two talk. I’m not. That’s cool.”
She was silent.
I was, too.
I spent my silence fighting the urge to grab another cigarette. I was not a heavy smoker unless I was drinking. Casual. I should quit. But she wasn’t one. She’d even made Knight quit. So it was uncool for me to smoke around her even in my own house. She walked in on me having one, that was one thing. Another to chain smoke when she was four feet away.
When she remained silent, I took my mind off my need for another smoke and stopped being that way.
“He wants to talk. Tell me why he left me all those years ago,” I shared.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Doesn’t turn back the years,” I told her.
“You’re right.”
“Doesn’t erase what happened to me,” I carried on.
“You’re right about that, too.”
I pulled in breath through my nose and stared at my dark yard.
Gun came into the room and I knew that because she jumped up on my chair. Then she shoved her way into the space between my thighs and my torso, which was snug since I had my body twisted sideways in the chair and my feet in the seat. Still, when she wanted something, she was determined and she got it. So she got it, curled up and started purring.