Broken Knight
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
Collapsing on the sand like a sack of bricks, I held my phone in front of my face, scrolling the contacts. I didn’t want to talk to Vaughn, and Hunter was a shitbag. The rest of my friends were dumbasses with first-world problems and couldn’t relate to me if they had a fucking brain transplant. Dad had enough on his shit plate, and anyway, we still weren’t really talking. My aunts Emilia and Melody were at the hospital, fussing over Mom, and I wasn’t sure how much Trent and Edie knew about what was going down with Luna and me, so it felt awkward to cry in their laps.
My screen flashed with an image of a bull’s head and read Deadbeat Dixie. The bull’s head was my own personal sick joke. Because it was the shape of a uterus, and that’s what she was for me—a hub for nine months until she spat me out and gave me away.
There wasn’t even an inch of me that wanted to answer her, but I still did, because I was too alone not to accept the love of those I hated.
“Hello? Knight? You there?” she asked frantically, the desperation in her voice telling me I wasn’t the only one surprised I’d picked up.
The wind beat against her receiver, and I could hear she was outdoors.
I grinned, even though I’d never been so sad in my entire miserable life.
“Knight? Are you okay?”
No answer.
“Baby, tell me where you are.”
“What do you care?” I hiccupped. “You live in fucking Texas. Does it matter if I’m stuck in a sewer? You can’t do shit about it,” I taunted.
“Honey…”
“Honey,” I mimicked, letting out a wretched laugh, rolling in the sand. I bet it wasn’t a pretty sight. My grown-ass, six-foot-three quarterback figure drunkenly rolling on the beach like a whale trying to find its way home. For some reason, I still had the phone to my ear.
“Knight, listen…” She hesitated.
“Now’s not the time for dramatic pauses. Kind of in the middle of being shitfaced here, and not really in the mood for coaxing your ass.”
“I’m here.” I heard her swallow.
“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Talking about my feelings is low on my to-do list, Dick—can I call you Dick? Seems fitting.”
“No, Knight. I mean literally here.”
Godfuckingdammit, is anyone ever going to use that word correctly?
“Huh?”
“I’m here. In California. In Todos Santos. Where are you?”
“Why?” My voice suddenly sounded sober, but that was about the extent of it.
It just surprised me was all. I hadn’t known she was planning another visit so soon.
“The thing is…I kind of…well…” She sighed.
Please, God, I hoped she hadn’t gotten knocked up again, by someone local this time. Life was too short to deal with random half-siblings, and my life was doing a fine job being a train wreck without any added drama.
“I never left,” she finished.
“You stayed here through Christmas and New Year’s?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I didn’t even know why I was laughing.
“Yes,” Dixie said seriously. “You looked like you could use someone, so I wanted to make myself available to you. Where are you?”
“I…” I looked around me before remembering I didn’t need a savior. Especially in the form of Dixie.
“Where?” she repeated.
“Nah. I think I’m good.” My smirk was back.
“Knight,” she warned.
“Aw. Look at you. Playing the doting parent and shit. Did you read a book about parenting? Bet you’re an expert now, huh?”
“Tell me where you are right now.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll tell your parents you’re an alcoholic.”
That made me choke on my laughter. Hilarious. I stopped rolling and stood up, swaying back and forth. Everything spun. My throat closed in on my last meal.
“You go do that.” I hung up.
She called again immediately. I picked up. I was looking for a fight. Hell, if Vaughn was here, I’d punch him in the nuts just to start one.
“Miss me?” I asked.
“You’ve been drinking a lot recently.”
“She’s sharp, too. Whaddaya think? Did I get my brains from you or daddy dearest? By the way, who is daddy dearest, exactly?”
“It’s not a conversation for now.”
“Guess it’s a conversation for never.”
She sounded like she was running. Where, I had no clue. I didn’t care, either. All I cared was that I had a punching bag I could go to town on.
“Knight, stop moving. You’re zig-zagging,” she snapped.
First of all, I didn’t even realize I was moving. Second of all, and more importantly, how did she…?
I looked up and realized she was descending the stairs from the promenade to the beach. Hot damn. She’d found me. I had no clue how, but she had. I turned my back, walking away from her. But my intoxication slowed me, and she was fast because of her eagerness to help. She caught me in three strides and yanked me by the back of my Balenciaga jacket.
“Knight Jameson Cole, you do not get to drink your troubles away and talk to me like this. I’m worried, you understand?”