Willy instantly sat up, dropping his book. "Where the bleeding hell are you?" he said. "I've been looking all over creation for you. Whose number is this?"
"I — uh… I'm at a friend's house," Aaron said, glancing at Michael.
"Why didn't you text me back?" Willy demanded. "Do you even know I came down to the cannery to see you? Like you asked me to?"
"I lost my phone and — wait… You came? When? Was I there?"
"Bloody hell yes, you were there!" Willy said, growing more upset as they talked. He grabbed a pencil from his night table and twirled it nervously through his fingers. "Who's your new friend?"
"Did you see what happened to me?" Aaron asked.
"Of course I did, you wanker! I saw the whole blasted thing! Why aren't you at home?"
"I — uh, I got sidetracked."
Willy paused for a moment, close to losing it. "So, who's your new friend?"
"Oh, he's just a man I met at the park. He's — "
"A man? What man? And you're at his house? At night? Are you off your trolley?"
"His name's Michael. He helped me after the — "
"Good for him. So you're headed home now, right?"
"Well — uh… not yet. We're starting a game of pool. You should see his loft, Willy."
" Damn it, Aaron. Who the hell does this Michael guy think he is?"
" Hey! " Aaron snapped with sudden viciousness. His temper was short after what he'd been through tonight. "I don't have to take crap from you or anyone else, okay? I'll explain everything tomorrow on the way to school — and in the mean time, you can just chill the hell out! "
Willy felt like he'd been struck by a fist and was unable to speak for a few moments.
"What's with you, Aaron?" he said at last, his voice as empty as he felt. "It's me… Willy… your best friend, remember? Did you at least call your mom? She's worried sick, you know. I was over there earlier, and she's not doing too well."
Aaron had forgotten about his mother, but he could no longer be bothered with the trifles of family life. After all, he had escaped being eaten by a dog, then nearly shot and killed, and now he was playing pool in a cool loft — like a man. He felt strong… independent… invincible.
"Tell someone who cares," he said, his tone cold as an ice axe.
Willy felt as if an artery had been severed. With one unbelievably cruel remark, Aaron had effectively ended their conversation — and their lifelong friendship.
"Screw you, you arrogant son-of-a-bitch," he said.
Aaron was unfazed. "I gotta go," he said.
Willy kept the phone to his ear, but he couldn't speak. Tears came.
"See you tomorrow, Willy," Aaron said with a detached air. He ended the call, then walked over and returned Michael's phone to where he found it.
Michael couldn't help but overhear. "What was that all about?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing," Aaron replied. "Just dealing with an old friend."
Willy tossed his phone on the night table and punched his pillow. "Screw you, Aaron Quinn," he said. "You can just bugger the hell off!" He lay back, pulled his blanket up over his head and cried.
Chapter 11
Michael went over the rules for the game of eight-ball. Then he selected two cue sticks from a rack and handed one to Aaron. "That should be a good weight for you," he said. "Go ahead and break."
Aaron's body hurt him as he stretched out over his opening shot (the cardboard boxes hadn't completely broken his fall), but still he managed to drop the 10 ball on the break.
"Nice shooting," Michael said. "You're a natural." But he could see that Aaron was in his own world.
Michael recalled a story. "I have to tell you about this old lady I saw, yesterday," he began. "She was pushing a wheelbarrow down the street with a cat riding in it."
Aaron pocketed the 9 ball.
"And this was the biggest damn cat I've ever seen! I mean this dude was big! It was raining hard, and the old lady was trying to hold an umbrella over both herself and the cat; but it wasn't working, and the cat was soaked to the skin."
Aaron followed with the 15 ball.
"But he didn't care one bit. He just rode along, minding his own business, as though it were his daily routine. It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen."
Aaron banked the 12 into the corner pocket, and then leaned on his cue stick and looked at Michael.
"I almost got blown away tonight, you know," he said out of the blue.
Michael was still laughing about the cat. "Uh… what?" he said.
"Down at the old cannery near the wharf. Some filthy bank robber bastard tried to kill me."
"You've got to be kidding," Michael said, taking a seat on a nearby stool.
"I told you about my fight with my stepdad," Aaron said. "Well, that was true — but he didn't give me this." He pointed to his split cheek, then proceeded to tell Michael the rest of the story.
Chapter 12
Michael ran a hand through his hair. "My God, Aaron," he said, "I don't know what to say." He had never even made up a story as wild as the one Aaron had just told him. He stood and walked over to get his phone.
Aaron new immediately what Michael was planning to do. "You're calling the cops, right?" he said. "No way. No cops."
Michael looked at him. "You do know that this low-life scum will come looking for you."
"What, do you think I'm an idiot?" Aaron said. "I know, okay?" Tears welled in his eyes and he stood and walked over to the wall of windows. His face reflected in the glass as he looked out at the city lights and calmed himself for a few moments. "You don't know this man. He's some kind of psycho. If I turn him in, God only knows what he'd do to my mom." He paused. "I can't let that happen."
Michael foolishly hadn't considered that. He replaced his phone, then walked over and stood with Aaron at the window.
"Aaron, I'm sorry," he said. "What's your mother's name?"
Aaron rubbed his nose and spoke softly. "It's Ashley."
"Don't worry, Aaron. I'd never do anything that could hurt Ashley."
Avery, John
Three Days To Die
Chapter 13
Michael cast around for a way to change the subject. After a moment he said, "Do you like cars?"
Aaron smiled and wiped his eyes with the backs of his fingers. "I love cars," he replied.
"Follow me," Michael said. "I have something I want to show you." Then he led Aaron down to the underground parking garage.
– The garage floor glistened with moisture, and the sound of dripping water could be heard echoing in the distance. Michael and Aaron walked past two dozen vehicles of every class and description parked in neat rows. At
the end of the garage, in a space tucked away from the others, they stopped next to a tungsten silver Aston Martin DBS.
Aaron's jaw dropped. "Oh my gosh… This is yours?"
Michael held out his wrist to Aaron. "Touch your finger here," he said, indicating the little OPEN zone between eight and nine o'clock on his transponder chronograph wristwatch.
Aaron stared at the exquisite marvel of miniaturization.
"A light touch is all it takes," Michael said.
Aaron touched his fingertip to the face of the titanium watch, and the Aston unlocked itself and its dazzling electronics sparkled to life.
"Oh my gosh!" Aaron said. "That is crazy."
"Hop in," Michael said.
Aaron opened the passenger door then hesitated, knowing he was breaking another cardinal rule; then he slid into the low-slung seat.
He looked around the interior, running his hands over the hand-stitched leather and carbon-fiber accents. "This car is unbelievable," he said. "Aren't these like 300 grand or something?"