What the Hell Page 17

  Letting my face drop to a stone-cold gaze, I took a step closer to my government friend and let my eyes slowly begin shifting from purple to scarlet while I told him the truth. “When you’re a fucking tank, everyone is going the wrong way, mortal.”

  Collin leaned slightly backward with a look of disgust on his face, as if I had farted instead of enlightened him.

  “Did you know, John, that in your dossier, it states that you might subconsciously push those closest to you away in an attempt to prevent abandonment? What you don’t realize, or perhaps you do, is that it is a self-fulling prophecy that allows you to break away from people on your own terms, never allowing them to get close.”

  “That’s simply not true,” I stated, taken aback and letting my eyes shift back to normal. “I have plenty of friends.”

  “Your close circle of friends could be labeled as one of convenience, or necessity. Warden Broadway has a mission to complete. Ludvig wants to prevent the end of the world and feels he must protect you, even from yourself. Joey follows Depweg, while Magni does the same with Ludvig. Locke feels compelled to erase his previous transgressions against you — an atonement, if you will. Depweg is the only one I would strongly label as a ‘friend,’ and even then, he is following suit with Ludvig and trying to prevent you from ending all of creation by doing something foolish and preventable. Why else do you think he hasn’t rebuilt his sanctuary? He has the skills and time. Why does he choose to live underground in shipping containers instead of in nature surrounded by trees, wildlife, and his dogs?” The last word was piercing and purposeful.

  I took a staggering step backward, as if he had punched me right between the eyes. Shock stole my breath as the truth I had always known in the back of my head lunged from the darkness and wrapped around my mind like a serpent, squeezing the life from me.

  I tried to compose myself by putting on a fake smile.

  “You’re just mad I pressed the button.”

  “I gave you one of the most advanced pieces of technology in existence, and the first thing you do is defy me? You pressed an unnamed icon not even knowing what it could do. I-I’m trying to fathom in what parallel universe that would be considered an intelligent thing to do.”

  “Buy ya a drink?” I thumbed over my shoulder before turning and entering the saloon. I was done with the conversation and required inebriation. Many much alcohol. Many much.

  My fingers glided on the new wood of the swinging doors. I wanted to stop and appreciate the story depicted on them, but now wasn’t the time.

  Collin followed behind, opting to sit at the bar next to where I parked my behind.

  Val came in from the kitchen, wiping his fingers with a dirty rag. He dropped it in a small basket with other rags before washing his hands in the sink under the counter.

  “John,” he greeted as his eyes flicked over the newcomer for an instant.

  “Heya, Val. Brought someone who needs to lighten up.”

  “Hello, Valenta. I’m Special Agent in Charge Baker of the FBPI,” Collin greeted with a bow of his head, since they weren’t within handshaking distance, plus Val was still drying his at that moment.

  “What have ya done now, boy?” Val asked, arching an eyebrow at me as he tossed the damp paper towel in the trash.

  “Muah? Nothing, my good sir. Cross my heart and hope to undie,” I said with a shit-eating grin as I made an X over my heart. “Now, can I get a drink, pretty please? Just learned some harsh truths from Captain Dickhead over here.”

  “SAC Dickhead, actually,” Collin corrected with a hint of levity to his voice. Maybe he realized he had gone too far with his honesty. Then again, could honesty be something that was considered a weapon for pain? My mind flashed to Depweg and Joey as I lied about Dawson, answering my question with gruesome clarity.

  I licked my lips and rubbed at my face as Val took forever to pour my fucking drink.

  “Make it a double, please,” I asked with a voice that trembled like an addict about to get his next fix.

  “What truth was spoken, if I may inquire?” Val asked with his thick Southern drawl.

  When Collin didn’t answer, I looked at him before exhaling aggressively. “Go ahead. Tell ’im.”

  “Not my place,” Collin responded, lifting both hands up with his palms out.

  My eyes went back to Val, who held my delicious drink hostage.

  “He freaking said that my friends are only my friends out of, what did you say, necessity and convenience? Yeah, that was it.”

  Val set the drink down and slid it over to me while shifting his gaze to Collin.

  “Is that true, SAC Baker?”

  “There was much more said than those simple words, but yes. It is my opinion that John is averse toward the truth.”

  “And what truth is that, SAC Dickhead?” I asked as I shot the drink down in one go.

  “Well, though I’d intended this to be a private conversation, I suppose it wouldn’t do any worse harm to have a neutral third party’s opinion.” Collin turned his body squarely toward me. “John, I truly believe one cannot improve unless weaknesses are first identified. If your car starts making a funny noise, you don’t drive it into the ocean and straight up buy another one, right? You first take it in for a diagnosis. The tech informs you what they found and asks you what the next move is. There are those out there who choose to ignore there’s anything wrong and keep driving until one day the wheels fall off. Those same people are the ones that typically blame the world for their rotten luck instead of owning up to their actions, or lack thereof. I do not think you are one to blame the world, John. In fact, I am willing to go all-in and bet that you want to know where your weaknesses lie so you can improve them. What I said about your friends was an exaggerated truth delivered with a clinical indifference. I won’t apologize for saying it; I wanted you to hear the words aloud.”

  “Why?” I asked as I slid the empty shot glass to Val. He began pouring me another.

  “Consider it an exercise on shining the light on potential truths we don’t want to hear. I saw your expression when I said what I said. You had already thought about the context, even if only subconsciously.”

  Val slid the shot glass over to me, and I turned to see his gaze piercing my very soul as he watched my reactions.

  I turned back to Collin with a scowl that was more hurt than angry.

  “I-I-I just don’t understand why you went from talking about abandonment to how my friends aren’t really my friends.” I tilted the shot glass upward as I took three appreciating gulps of the drink. It tasted so delectable. Plus, it promised to numb the pain I was feeling in my heart from what this government agent with a detailed file on me was saying. It was in a dossier, so it had to be true, right?

  Collin straightened where he was sitting with an almost tired look on his face, as if I wasn’t receiving the message he was trying his best to deliver. “John, I told you about abandonment and why you push people away subconsciously before stating why your friends are your friends . . . because it’s how you see them.”

  I choked on my drink and dropped the glass to the bar, where it clattered and rolled, prompting Val to snatch it up. I was impressed that he was already cleaning the bar top with a towel that smelled of citrus.

  “Wha-what?” I asked between coughing fits as I turned to face Collin. My hand rested on my upper chest where my neck connected, feeling every cough. “That’s ho-how I se-see them?” I finished between my subsiding choking session.

  Collin stared at me, waiting for the fuse that had been lit to ignite the payload.

  “Think about it. Except for the Grand Master, you could probably single-handedly take out every warlock on Earth before they even knew they were being watched, especially with all your toys. But there is always a part of you that is wanting that extra security, so you have agreed to work with Warden Broadway. Ludvig provides protection while you sleep, and helps formulate plans involving hunting or trapping. Locke has all but replaced Da in
terms of running your companies, blood supply, and keeping your head on straight. Once again, Depweg is the odd man out, as you want him to be around simply for the sake of his companionship, which I admire.”

  I became light-headed as Collin turned my world around on me. First, he had planted the idea that my friends were using me, making sure I felt the bite of his words, before turning it completely around on me to reveal that, in fact, I was the villain of this tale.

  “We are all the heroes of our own story,” I whispered, barely audible.

  “I think you are catching on,” Collin admitted, turning back toward the bar and pointing to something on the wall. I couldn’t tell what it was because my eyes had fallen to the counter in front of me. I rested my arms on it while my head continued to slump. I wanted to yank on the drawstrings of my hoodie until only the resemblance of an anus was left where my face had been. I wanted to hide from the world.

  “Why . . . ? Why tell me any of this?”

  “The truth is a powerful weapon, even to the point where our own minds try to disguise it as something it simply is not. I respect you enough to tell you the truth, John. Pressing that icon was deeper than the act itself. Maybe now that you are consciously aware of your — how do I put this — penchant for pushing people away, you might cease doing so. Or at the very least, begin improving on your flaws. We could honestly use all the allies we can muster, and you are kind of at the center of everything.”

  Val handed a glass of amber liquid with a single spherical block of ice to Collin, who picked it up appraisingly. He sniffed it while closing his eyes, swirling the glass a few times before bringing it to his lips. He took a small sip and let out a moan that was clearly to let Valenta know his stock was of excellent quality.

  “Amazing, my friend,” Collin announced while holding the glass up to inspect it. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything this good before.”

  Valenta’s chest seemed to puff out a tad as his chin lifted a fraction of an inch in pride.

  “Thank ye. Made it myself.”

  “Sir, you and I are going to get along just fine. I would very much like to be a repeat customer of yours, if you’ll have me,” Collin declared.

  “It’d be an honor, SAC Baker,” Val said with what I thought was a smile under his thick facial hair.

  “Please, call me Collin.”

  “Val,” the saloon owner added while reaching across the bar and shaking Collin’s hand.

  I watched the exchange by bouncing my eyes back and forth between the men like they were playing an evenly matched game of ping-pong.

  “What the hell is going on?!”

  “Making friends. Why? Do you do it a different way?” Collin asked with a smirk and knowing gaze.

  I caught on, narrowing my eyes as I chewed on my cheek, debating on my next move.

  “You know what you remind me of?” Collin asked.

  “Oh-ho-ho, please, pray tell,” I responded, pushing on the bar to square up with Collin. I had a daring smile on my face.

  “You remind me of the bridge guy in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. He thinks he’s in control and punishes those around him as he sees fit. Then when the situation is reversed, he’s surprised at his own fate.”

  “I always considered myself to be more like the bunny. You know, all cute and cuddly.” I switched to a British accent. “But look at the fangs!”

  “All that I’m trying to say is that if you continue to burn bridges, one day you’ll end up alone on an island. So the next time I ask you not to press a button—”

  “I press the button,” I interjected while stifling a giggle.

  “Boy! Tha man’s onto somethin’. Listen to ’im.”

  “Have I mentioned I don’t like being teamed up on?” I asked as I turned back to the bar and pointed at the empty spot on the counter in front of me. Val took the hint and poured another, using the same glass as before. That wasn’t like him, as he was a stickler for cleanliness. The simple action told me how tired he was of my stubbornness.

  “Guys, I get it. Okay? I inject humor into awkward situations, and I push those around me away, except Depweg.”

  “Are ya sure ’bout that?” Val asked knowingly. My gaze shot up to lock onto his, and I stared into the angel’s eyes. There was no way in Hell — literally — that he could know about Dawson. Then again, he might still have friends above, or even below. Being a Gray Angel didn’t limit him to either side’s strict loyalty. It could be more of an ambiguous faction, not beholden to Heaven or Hell.

  “Do you want to say something to me, Val?” I asked harshly, daring him to challenge me as I pushed the hood off of my head.

  “Actually, I do, boy.”

  “Oh? Please, go ahead. Ask.”

  “Where’s tha coat we helped make for ya?”

  I was surprised by his question and it showed on my face.

  “See what I mean about bridges?” Collin whispered in my ear as he patted my shoulder before returning to his drink.

  Not knowing what to say, I answered directly, “Um, Ulric has it. The team is actually gonna go get it in the morning.”

  “I would like my nail back, while yer at it,” Val added as he rested both his hands on the bar, a cleaning rag that smelled of citrus still in one hand.

  “I would like another drink, please,” I sheepishly asked while I turned to Collin. Something Val had said had bugged me, and I didn’t know if the angel had done it intentionally.

  “If I don’t tell Depweg the truth, is that me pushing him away?” I asked softly, giving in to the fact that this man might know more about the subject than me.

  “It’s an interesting concept, truth. To answer your question, yes, you are pushing him away. To expand on that explanation,” Collin said as he looked at the ceiling as if searching for the right words, “picture this: everything you and Jonathan Depweg know is shared between you. It has created a bond of shared experiences, like-minded thinking, and even a fondness for movies.”

  “Thaaaaat’s mostly me. I think he tries because he knows I love making pop culture references.”

  “You are only serving to prove my point,” Collin added with an upward curve of his lips. “But any truths that you know and don’t share with him, especially those that are of particular importance, create a wedge between you. The more impacting the withheld truth, the deeper the wedge. And,” Collin took in a breath, “when they find out about the truth, knowing you intentionally did not tell them, the wedge is multiplied by a magnitude I’d have to send off to NASA to properly calculate.”

  The hand holding the glass near my lips froze in midair as I registered his words. I could smell the blood and alcohol, promising to relieve me of my burden of guilt and pain.

  I set the drink down on the bar with a loud clink as some of the blood rushed over the side, spreading over my fingers.

  I looked at Collin with a deadpan expression as I aggressively asked, “And what if he can’t handle the truth? We all know what happens when he gets a 1-star review on Amazon. Some people can’t handle bad news, and he has proven to be one of them. So, if there is a gap, Collin, it is only wedged further apart because I am forced to withhold the truth from someone who can’t take it to the point where they become a danger to everyone around them. I mean, he almost freaking killed me with a single swipe of his giant paw.”

  Without looking at me, Collin stared at the wall with his drink close to his lips as he solemnly said, “We are all the hero of our own story.”

  I began shifting my focus between my accusers. “Look, gentlemen, I don’t fucking like not telling Depweg the truth about Dawson, alright? But what fucking choice do I have?!” Tears of frustration poked from the corners of my eyes, and I had to will them back down. It occurred to me that the burden of secrecy from my brother might be more than even I could handle.

  “I’m just trying to make sure that you going back to Hell is for the right reasons,” Collin answered, turning to stare me right in the eyes. Hi
s pale blue irises were fierce as they regarded me. My gaze flicked back and forth between them as his stayed steadily in one place.

  “Boy, you’re goen back?!” Valenta slapped his hands on the bar while shaking his head.

  “I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “What the fuck do you mean why? To get Dawson out of Sheol.”

  “SHEOL?!” Valenta bellowed before whirling away from where I sat and grabbing both sides of his hips. “Father, give me strength,” he whispered.

  “Is that why you are going?” Collin asked softly. “Or is it because you want to free his soul and relieve yourself of the burden of your silent, poisonous truth?”

  I tensed my jaw before throwing my drink back and swallowing the shot in one angry gulp.

  Collin continued, “Either way is fine. But I want you to acknowledge the truth you are keeping from yourself. I believe it will help ease your burden.”

  Blowing out a blast of air between tight lips, I turned to Collin and said, “It’s both, damn it!”

  “Fair enough,” Collin said as he took another sip of his whiskey. He turned to Val and muttered, “Mmm, that’s good.” I took that as Collin being done with me, for now.

  Valenta dropped his hands from his hips and turned around, unable to make eye contact with me. Instead, he stared at the counter in front of where I sat.

  “Ya can’t go ta Sheol, boy. No one has ever made it back. No one.”

  “No one has ever freed a soul from Hell either, Val. But I did it with Dawson, just before he was struck down.”

  Valenta stared at me, processing what I had said.

  “Damn it, John. I don’ think it a good idea for ya to tempt fate like this. Ya already went ta Hell and back once. Ain’t that enough?”

  “I have to.”

  “Why?” he demanded with fierce eyes. I took note that he wasn’t letting any of his angel characteristics show through with the government man here, though I would be surprised if Collin didn’t know already.