SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL, J.HUGHES

FIFTY SEVEN

"What...?" The word barely escapes my lips, choked out and hollow.

"Yeah," Thomas continues, his voice almost mechanical, like he's just delivering bad news to a stranger. "She didn't tell you because she's scared, Jack. Scared of how you'd react, scared of losing you, scared of... everything."

I stagger back, my hand gripping the edge of the counter to steady myself. My vision blurs, and I blink rapidly, trying to clear my head, but it's no use. The words echo in my skull, bouncing around until I can't think straight.

Cancer. Again. Morgan's got fucking cancer, and she didn't tell me.

"You're lying," I growl, my voice trembling with anger, desperation, fear—all of it crashing together in one massive wave. "You're fucking lying, Thomas. She would've told me."

"I'm not lying," he says, his voice flat, unyielding. "I wish I was, but I'm not. She's been coming here after her appointments, trying to hold it together, but it's been eating her up inside. At first I tought you knew, seriously man."

I'm not dumb, I can put 2 with 2 and that's why the other day he asked me to take care of her as if she was dying. I tought he was being a creep, but in fact he knew something that I didn't, and it caught him offguard.

Secrets, secrets, secrets. Here we go again.

"Jack..." Ethan starts, but I don't even hear him. I'm too busy staring at Thomas, my mind racing, trying to process what he just said, trying to make sense of it. But it doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense.

I feel the room spinning, the walls closing in on me. I'm suffocating, drowning in this tidal wave of emotions I can't control. I take my beer that I left on the counter when I got in and trow it on the wall. But it doesn't help, it just makes me more angry.

Thomas doesn't flinch, doesn't move. He just stands there, watching me unravel, his face a mask of calm, detached from the chaos he just unleashed. And that's what sets me off. That fucking indifference.

"You knew, and you didn't fucking tell me?" I shout, my voice raw, filled with a rage I can't contain. "You let her go through this alone, you piece of shit? You just stood by and watched?"

"I tought you knew," Thomas snaps again, his voice finally showing some emotion. "She's terrified, Jack! She's scared out of her mind, and the last thing she needs is you freaking out like this!"

"Fuck you!" I scream, shoving him hard, my hands trembling. "Fuck you, man. You're a fucking joke."

Ethan's at my side, pulling at my arm, trying to drag me away, but I'm too far gone. The rage is too much, consuming me like a wildfire. My vision's tinted red, and all I see is Thomas—standing there with that fucking look.

"Jack, let's go," Ethan pleads, his voice tense, like he's afraid of what I might do next. "This isn't helping. Let's just—"

"Don't fucking touch me!" I snarl, yanking my arm free, my eyes locked on Thomas. I've never seen Ethan scared before, but right now, he's looking at me like I'm a ticking time bomb.

And he's right. I'm past the point of no return. I don't even feel the tears; I'm too numb, too pissed off to cry. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my heart hammering in my chest. I'm on the edge, about to lose it completely.

Just then, Luke bursts into the kitchen, his eyes darting between the three of us. "What the hell is going on here?" he demands, his voice a mix of confusion and frustration.

"Luke, stay out of this," Ethan tries to warn him, but it's too late.

"Fuck off, Luke," I snap, not even looking at him. "You're in the dark, just like me. No one told us shit."