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I run back into the loft with disappointment and situate Amos on the couch and hold a towel to his nose.
“What the fuck happened here?” Kyle shouts minutes later, appearing in the doorway. “Amos called with an emergency.”
“Ronnie decided to pay me a visit,” I say, biting back tears.
“Oh, fuck me!” Kyle yells. “That dumb junkie!”
“Can we not tell Gage about this?” I ask Amos, standing up.
His glassy eyes meet mine. “Last time we made a pact like that, you two didn’t talk to each other for nearly a decade.”
“When it rains, it fucking pours,” I cry out.
Thirty-Eight
Gage
I hitLauren’s name while making my way through the airport.
The call goes straight to voice mail.
Seconds later, Kyle’s name flashes across my phone screen.
“Hey, man,” I answer.
We’ve briefly talked since I flew to Chicago. I want to tell him everything in person.
“I have something to tell you, but promise you won’t freak out,” he says with caution.
The fuck kind of statement is that?
“Depends on what it is.”
“There was a situation.”
“What do you mean, situation?” I’ve had enoughsituationsto last a lifetime.
His breathing is heavy on the other end. “Ronnie … he, uh …”
“The landlord?”
“The landlord.”
“What about the fucking landlord?” The volume of my voice grants me looks from people passing by.
“The building fire was caused by him cooking drugs there.”
How the fuck is that a situation for me?
I’m happy it gives us the answer we were looking for and that people will stop giving Lauren a hard time.
“Good. Lauren won’t be blamed for that fire now.”
“Too late. Ronnie blamed her for his getting busted and paid her a visit at your place.”
My breathing falters, and I stop in place. “The fuck did you just say?”
“He came to the loft and assaulted her. Thankfully, your dad walked in and fought him off. They’re both a little banged up, but everyone is fine.”
