AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We need people like her. Soft-spoken, kind, quiet. Not a party-head. She’s been tight with Bo since we arrived at Zion for Spring Break.
Bo is a different story. He was the general manager of Ayana. In his thirties, he was slick, Armani suit, Movado watch and all that. Polite speech, immaculate manners, and thick dreadlocks neatly tied in the back that made him approachable and a hit among the staff.
We started on the wrong foot right away. To be exact, the first night the master pool was trashed and Qi Shan was running around naked, harassing the young maids.
Bo’s voice was sharp and cold the next day when he said, “Mr. Crone, I understand that your father owns the resort, but I have a responsibility to the staff.”
I was drunk and snapped at him. Offered money, I think. Laughed. I wasn’t responsible for anyone but myself. This was our vacation, and if it destroyed the resort, we would’ve paid for it.
No surprise, Bo and I didn’t click for the next several days.
So when the nuclear attacks happened and that very night, Ayana was attacked by Savages and shit went down, leaving us with the dead bodies of our friends, Bo and many others blamed me.
That’s why, as I park my bike at Doc’s office, I feel unease crawl down my spine—it was my fault Bo was shot by one of the guards and almost died two weeks ago.
Doc is at the receptionist’s desk when I walk in.
“Looking good,” he says, studying me up and down like he does an x-ray of me with his eyes. “Looks like you are eating these days?”
The fact that he talks to me like I’m a kid is endearing, considering he is the only person who inquires about my health. Unlike my dad.
Maddy is in Bo’s room when I walk in. She smiles softly—“Hey, Archer”—always does, like I didn’t banish her to the Eastside for two years.
I nod and shift my eyes to Bo, who looks at me calmly, his eyes slightly drooping, IVs snaking from his arms. His dreadlocks are in stark contrast with the blue hospital bed, his sculpted body almost too small for it.
“I’ll let you two talk,” says Maddy.
“Stay, Maddy,” I argue calmly. “We should all talk together.”
There are no secrets here. I’m not blackmailing. Bo, Maddy, and Droga have all the leverage on the Eastside. It’s about time I gave them all an option to go or stay—whatever they choose.
I grab a chair and pull it up to Bo’s bed and take a seat, leaning with my elbows on my knees.
“How are you?”
It’s always hard to make peace after playing enemies for years. If I were drunk, I would’ve been cocky. But I haven’t had a drink today. Yet. I limit myself to a couple a day. Usually at night. That’s much less than what I am used to in the last month, and the need for a fix makes my skin crawl the first half of the day.
Addiction is a bitch. I am a scientist. I know how it works. But what helps is microdosing. Tiny amounts of LSD that I take during the day curb the craving for other drugs and booze. Every day it gets easier.
Bo studies me through his sleepy eyes. “Not looking that great, Archer. Demons chase you at night?”
“Looks like they caught up withyou,” I say without bitterness. “I am sorry for what happened to you, Bo. No one was supposed to use firearms that night.”
He nods. “Thank you for the help.”
He means Doc, the nurses, and treatment. Are you supposed to thank the person who almost got you killed and got you a doctor afterward?
Maddy speaks from across the room. “What are your plans for the Eastside, Archer? Can we please talk about it?”
Thank you, Maddy.
Only she could openly entice a conversation after two years of a standoff.
“Do you have surviving family back on the mainland?” I ask her, knowing the answer.
“No,” she says barely audibly.
“You, Bo?” I turn to him. “You are from the Dominican, aren’t you?”
