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“Yes, there is,” I said with conviction. “I’ll stand behind whatever you decide.”
“Does she make you happy, this woman?”
I grunt at the unexpected topic change that forces me to think of Sin and answer without thinking, unwilling to explore my feelings with Tif or anyone. Even myself. “No. Not in the least.”
“Liar.”
“How do you know?”
“I can hear the smile in your voice over the frown on your face.” I heard a male voice in the background, and although I strained to hear what he said, I couldn’t make out the words.“Uh, I have to go. Talk to you soon.”
Even before she ended the call, I was already thinking how Gramps would react if I didn’t marry the woman he had chosen.
Not that I would know. Gramps never loses control of his emotions. He didn’t cry during my father’s funeral, nor did he flinch when he came into my hospital room and saw how banged up I was.
He’d glossed over my broken left arm, made only one remark on how my right eye had swelled shut, and completely ignored the ligature marks made by the belt my father had used to close off my air supply.
“You’ll be alright, boy. You’re tough. Don’t you worry about anything. You’re coming to live with me.”
Those were the only words of comfort he gave me.
Having visited him during Christmas break and the odd summer, I knew what he was like, so it didn’t shock me that the rest of our conversation centered on neutral subjects, like school and the weather.
I didn’t even inquire (or care) that my father had been banished from managing a security detail division in Washington D.C., where I grew up, to a three person satellite office in San Francisco. I was just grateful he was out of my life and that I never had to speak to him or see him again.
I program the GPS in my rental car with the address I’d taken from Gen’s employee file. The map shows that the drive takes about fifteen minutes.
As I navigate Austin’s snarling Friday night traffic, I’m tempted to run the distance. I don’t because the chicken soup I bought for her would spill. That’s what Gramps insisted I eat in the hospital to heal my broken arm and bruised flesh. I felt better because he made me believe it was a miracle cure.
Maybe it will work on Genesis the same way?
I pull up outside the address to see that she lives in a gated apartment complex with a coded entry. I don’t have the code… yet, so I have to follow the instructions on the sign next to the keypad. I’m supposed to enter the apartment number, followed by the first three letters of her last name. Facing the camera, I type in the digits.
It rings once. Twice. After the third ring a voice,a deep male voicesays, “Sup.”
Must be him. The guy she lives with.
I double check the code just to be sure. Yep, 5434B TUR displays on the screen.
A car pulls in behind me, close enough to see that the driver, an older man, has a scowl on his face.
It’s too late to back out now. I can only move forward.
“I’m here to see Sin. Uh,Gen. Genesis Turner.”
“Yeah, dude. Gen’s in the shower. Come on up and wait for her.”
What the hell? Who is this clown?
Natalie clarified Seth was just a roommate. Still, I’m pissed he’s telling a stranger to come up when she’s more than likely naked. I could be a psycho after all.
As I wait for the gate to swing open, I tell myself that I’m not here for anything more than to see how she feels. My concern for her means nothing. I’d do the same for Shane.
I would. I really would.
Rather than debate with myself and go in circles like a dog chasing his tail, I shoot through the gate the moment it’s wide enough for the car to pass.
Minutes later, I ring the doorbell at her…theirapartment, tapping the plastic bag with the container of chicken soup against my leg. After a brief wait, I gape in surprise as a big guy answers the door.
