Ash & Dust

6| He Was Bored

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DUST
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Nearly two weeks had gone by since I'd been put 'on hold', as Shai liked to put it, and I was starting to become antsy, not having anything to do on a daily basis. Odds are I would have been able to relax more if Shai had also decided to put my debt on hold as well, but he made it very clear the other day that he was still adding on interest despite me not being able to work. The man was fucking unreasonable, which made it increasingly difficult to hold my tongue when it came to our phone calls.

Especially whenever he mentioned my Pops.

"I've got a source in the department that confirmed you're under surveillance," Shai said, sounding pissed. "Keep your head low."

"I will," I answered sharply, tired of his routine check-ins and tauntings. When he wasn't ordering me around, he was gloating about his damn profits or mentioning the latest people he had to off because they crossed him.

"Watch your tone, boy, before you find yourself at the same fucking place as your father. Six feet under," he warned coldly, and the mere mention of my Pops had the veins in my neck straining. I had to hold my breath to keep from saying something I'd regret. "Am I understood?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" he pushed, and my lip twitched.

"Yes, you're understood."

He hung up on me not long after that, and the past three days since that phone call, I'd been holed up in Micky's house, only going out to get the mail. Realizing I had no control over my own fucking life wasn't motivating me to do anything.

Right now I was in nothing but my boxers, still sprawled out on the defective couch I used as a bed, having just woken up twenty or so minutes ago. I could tell by the way the sky was darkening outside that the sun was setting soon, but I wasn't bothered by the fact I slept the day away. I had no inspiration, no reason or drive to get up; not even when the front door burst open and the blue-eyed bastard I called my best friend came through the door with Maizie in his arms and Amy waddling in after him.

Randomly tossing his child onto me, I let out a groan of pain because she landed right on my stomach. It felt like someone beamed a medicine ball at my gut, and I needed a second to catch my breath. Giving Micky the middle finger and mouthing a pissed 'fuck you' at him, I closed my eyes as if that would make the ache go away.

It didn't, but I liked to think it would.

Crawling further up my chest, two little hands gripped my face and tried to pry my eyes open, but I refused. I knew it wasn't her fault, considering her father literally threw her on me, but my discomfort was associated to her which, in turn, resulted in my being annoyed with her.

"Dustyyyyy," she called, still trying to get me to look at her with countless pokes and nudges. "Dusty, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Sighing, because of how worried she sounded, I opened my eyes and looked right into the face of my goddaughter. "Nothing's wrong."

"Oh. Are you sleepy?"

"No."

Tilting her head to the side, resulting in her bangs looking lopsided, she scrunched her face up in confusion. "Then why were your eyes closed? I don't think it's nap time, yet." Turning in the direction her parents went, Maizie stood up on my chest, which was sturdier than my stomach, leaned over the couch, and proceeded to yell, "Mommy, is it nap time?!"