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Another handsome man drives, but I’m in the back with Tizio, and though the vehicle’s big, he somehow takes up all the room and air. He’s everywhere. I fold my arms, cross my legs, and stare out the side window.
The drive to Fallon’s place—mine, too, I guess, since I live there, but even now, it’s hard to get used to—is a short one. Except today, it seems stretched way too long.
Tizio doesn’t follow me in as he and the other guy stay outside, looking at the small house conferring.
It’s incredibly frustrating. He doesn’t need to.
Fallon’s got the place all locked tight. And he has a small team of security people who check the grounds. It’s not hard. The land itself isn’t large. But that’s Fallon.
A home that’s not quite a prison, with rules, curfews, and off-limit parts of town. Parts I wouldn’t go to, anyway, and where am I getting into trouble in this part of town that harbors a college and student housing?
I go to my room and dump my bag. Of course, since he’s been away, I’ve been living it up. I turn on my computer and its screens, and pull my laptop from my bag to set it up on the desk.
Living it up is maybe a slight exaggeration. Pulling up the code I’ve been working on, I study the problem that’s been bugging me with it. This is schoolwork, something I’m working on, but no matter what I do, I hit the same issue. Things stop working and corrupt.
If this were in a live system, the network would collapse.
“Shit.” I work on it some more.But each and every time, it’s the same issue. I’d get out my pencils and draw, but that’s not going to help, not when my mind is fractured between the problem on the screen and the problem that dragged me from school.
An hour later, I’m at the same place.
I probably need coffee, conversation, something mindless, or the thing that accesses another part of my brain to let the subconscious work this out. Or at least come up with things I haven’t thought of.
But with Tizio and his buddy still out there, I hunker down and work.I don’t want to talk to him. And maybe, if I stay in here long enough, he’ll go away.
I pull up another thing I’m working on and I work out the bugs in the code, and while it isn’t where I want it, I have it to a place I’m good with.
The other issue calls to me, and I go back and comb through it. There’s a problem I missed, and I fix it, hoping it’s the holy grail. But it’s just a shiny cup because it holds a little longer, and then . . . it crashes.
“Damn it!” I need a change of venue. Air. Something.
And screw it, the big man can deal. I have a life and I’m going to live it.
Grabbing my bag, I shove my laptop into it and head out into the living room right as Tizio closes the door on his giant friend.
“Where are you going?” He eyes me with disdain.
I glare back. “Not your business.”
“Try again.”
I grit my teeth. “I get it. My brother’s very protective. He’s been away a while, and guess what? I’m in one piece. See?” I put a hand on my chest. “I can look after myself, like I said.”
“I remember. And I still don’t give a fuck.”
Somehow, I resist the urge to stomp my foot. “I’m good at it. More than that, I can even protect my brother. So, I don’t need you.”
“Back that up, will you?”
I’m on such a roll. “I said, I can protect my brother. For instance, there’s a couple who keep turning up, asking about him, and I brushing them off. My story doesn’t change. He’s not around. I barely know him. I can’t help them.”
It’s only as I finish, I realize my mistake. I just gave him some kind of probable cause for his being here, which is totally wrong. These people haven’t touched me, and I haven’t seen them around for a couple of weeks. Debt collectors, probably. What kind, I don’t need to know. I don’t think for a moment everything Fallon does is above board —why else have security? But this guy is too much.
And now he’s standing straight, not moving, focusing completely on me.
It’s both unnerving and hot as hell.
“I can take care of myself.”
