18. HARRISON
HARRISON
The note left by Sammy wasn’t exactly a novel. In fact, it was barely a sentence. In just a few hastily scribbled words, Sammy had told Harrison that he was going back to the city and might be a couple of days. To say that seeing this note bummed Harrison out would have been an understatement.
Harrison knew that he had overreacted to seeing Sammy on the phone.
But at the same time, Harrison maintained the fact that Sammy absolutely should not have gone against his word and logged back onto social media.
It had been clear from the dazed and zombie-like look on Sammy’s face that being online wasn’t good for him, and it was this that truly sent Harrison into his rage.
The thought of Sammy reverting back to the place he was in when Harrison first met him was something that Harrison didn’t even want to contemplate.
Harrison knew that it took a lot of discipline to get Sammy’s mind off the online stuff, so the thought that he had reverted back to it wasn’t good at all.
But, on the other hand, the one saving grace was that based on his note, Sammy was only going to be away for a couple of days. It suggested that Sammy was at the very least only seeing this as a temporary diversion from his new way of thinking.
However, the two days quickly turned to three – and then four – and then five. It had been nearly a whole week since Sammy had abruptly packed his bags and ran back to New York City.
Harrison was at home, sitting at the desk in his study and attempting to make some progress on his novel.
Since Sammy had cut and run, all of Harrison’s newfound energy and passion for his new book had evaporated.
He wanted to work on it and was desperately putting the hours in too.
But the words simply wouldn’t come. It was like Harrison’s entire inspiration was bound up with Sammy being around him.
Harrison was angry at Sammy for being so childish as to run out after an argument. But he was sad at his perfect boy not being with him.
What made things even worse was the fact that despite being online with new uploads and videos, Sammy wasn’t answering any of Harrison’s messages.
It made Harrison question whether Sammy was trying to ghost him, or whether this was some kind of punishment being dished out for losing his temper with the boy.
All in all, Harrison just didn’t know what to think.
If Sammy walked in that door now…
I’d spank him to hell and back!
Who am I kidding… I miss that boy so much.
As Harrison leaned back in his big, vintage armchair, he took a sip on his glass of whiskey. The whiskey had been a gift from Zane, a bottle that he had picked up while doing some work in Scotland.
In theory, it was a tipple that Harrison would have relished. However, with Sammy not around and also the stress of the situation with the Dean, even whiskey was losing its appeal.
‘Fuck. I could just drink the whole damn bottle,’ Harrison lamented, putting the glass down on the polished desk. ‘But I wouldn’t enjoy a single damn drop.’
Harrison hated feeling like this.
This wasn’t how his life was meant to be. Since Sammy had burst into his life, Harrison couldn’t recall the last time he had felt so consistently good about things.
But now it seemed like a dark cloud was hovering over Harrison – and with several more hours until night, it was shaping up to be another miserable afternoon alone in the study.
Harrison took another sip of the whiskey and as he felt it slipping down his throat, he stared at the computer screen. It wasn’t looking good.
‘Did I really just spend an hour writing this… crap?’ Harrison grumbled, his mood darkening. ‘And now I’m talking to myself. That’s just great!’
Before Harrison could chastise himself any further, he heard a knock at the front door.
For a moment, Harrison considered the possibility that it might be the Dean coming over.
After what had happened in the Dean’s office, this really wasn’t a thought that Harrison could contemplate, and he felt tempted to simply ignore the knocking.
But… the knocking at the door continued.
And continued.
‘Jesus! I’m coming!’ Harrison bellowed, his patience seriously fraying. ‘One damn second!’
Harrison stomped his big, heavy feet out of the study and down the hallway toward the front door. To his relief, Harrison could see from the vague outline of the person on the other side of the frosted glass that it wasn’t the Dean.
But that begged the question… who was it?
For a brief moment, Harrison thought it might just be Sammy. His hopes were dashed however when he opened the door and was faced by Lars – a worried looking Lars too…
‘What’s up, kid?’ Harrison said, standing to one side and gesturing for a concerned seeming Lars to enter. ‘Something tells me this is to do with Sammy…’
Harrison took a step back so that he wasn’t too up close and personal with Lars. Harrison knew he could be an imposing, intimidating figure for Littles and didn’t want to make Lars feel any more uneasy than he already looked.
Lars was wearing his white lab coat underneath his jacket, which suggested to Harrison that he had come over to the house in something of a rush. That wasn’t a good sign, and Harrison just had to say something to make Lars speak…
‘Okay, okay, how about some milk and cookies?’ Harrison said, walking toward the kitchen and beckoning Lars along too. ‘I could do with something to crunch on. I’m sure you could too, you look like you’ve run here?’
Lars sat at the kitchen table and waited for his milk and cookies. Harrison noticed that Lars was fiddling with his fingers, every part of him appearing to be on edge.
‘It’s okay, you can talk freely,’ Harrison said.
‘B… B… But I don’t want to get Sammy in trouble,’ Lars said, breaking his silence as he took a sip of oat milk from the big red mug.
‘You won’t. Don’t worry about that,’ Harrison said. ‘Sammy is my boy and if he’s in trouble, I need to know. Don’t you worry about a thing. Now… speak.’
Harrison was being firm, but also sensitive to how uncertain Lars appeared to be. Fortunately, his carefully authoritative tone worked and Lars began to speak.
‘Well, the thing is…’ Lars said. ‘Something’s just not as it should be. We were messaging and…’
‘Go on.’
‘Well…,’ Lars said, crunching on a cookie. ‘It’s like this…’
Lars went on to explain that the pair of them had been messaging on and off. Sammy hadn’t seemed happy at all, and without directly saying it was to do with Tucker, it definitely seemed that way to Lars.
Lars had started to ask questions, wanting to know exactly when Sammy would be returning from the city – and it was at this point that the responses from Sammy had dried up. Lars had even tried calling Sammy, but the calls were going to voicemail.
‘That doesn’t sound good,’ Harrison said, his arms folded and his mind running wild with possibilities. ‘I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.’
‘Did I do the right thing in talking to you?’ Lars asked, his voice trembling. ‘I don’t want to be a tattle-tale.’
‘No, you absolutely made the right call,’ Harrison said, taking two more cookies out from the large glass jar and handing them to Lars. ‘Here, take these. If you don’t mind, I have some thinking to do.’
‘No, not at all, I have to get back to the lab anyhow,’ Lars said, managing a little smile as he got up from the table. ‘Will Sammy be okay?’
‘If I’ve got anything to do with it, then yes he will,’ Harrison replied, wanting to sound as reassuring as he possibly could. Harrison could see that Sammy meant a lot to Lars, and didn’t want him to worry any more than he clearly already was.
But beneath Harrison’s calm, composed exterior was one worried Daddy…
* * *
The Oil Bar was one of Harrison and Zane’s favorite bars. With its sophisticated but well-worn upholstery and fine selection of craft ales, it was a perfect Daddy-style hangout.
Harrison had spent the remainder of the afternoon pacing around his house. Lars’s arrival and subsequent concerning words about Sammy had played on Harrison’s mind. There was no way to know exactly what was going on in Sammy’s head, and that was a big part of the problem.
Harrison knew that it may well have been the case that Sammy’s filming schedule was so hectic that he might just have put his phone on mute. Sure, Sammy liked Lars and they had become good friends – but friends or not, Sammy might just have not had time for him at that moment.
But something still didn’t add up.
Maybe it was his Daddy-sense, but Harrison had a strong urge that something was amiss. And he was determined to find out what.
Perhaps Zane’s call had come at just the right time. The prospect of spending a couple of hours with Zane in The Oil Bar was too good to turn down. Zane was a great sounding board, the kind of cool and collected thinker in a crisis that Harrison could do with having around in that moment.
Speaking of Zane, Harrison was just about beginning to wonder exactly where he was. They had arranged to meet at seven thirty and it was now nearly eight…
That son of a gun is probably paddling some cute boy.
Not that I blame him, but…
Just at this moment, a swaggering Zane entered the bar.
Harrison stood up from his stool and the pair embraced.
Zane was wearing a black t-shirt tucked into a pair of grey-black jeans with boots to match.
He looked cool as hell, but Harrison wasn’t about to let his buddy off the hook for being late.
‘You’re lucky I don’t make you pay for the rest of the evening,’ Harrison joked, playfully punching Zane’s arms. ‘But for a millionaire ex-racing driver that wouldn’t even be a thing, right?’
‘Says the millionaire bestselling author? Gimme a break!’ Zane laughed, firing back with his own playful shot to Harrison’s rock-hard stomach. ‘Anyway. We both know that there’s a situation going on with Sammy. What gives?’
Harrison explained the situation – or as best as he knew of it – to Zane, who listened patiently. Zane was a great listener, something that came from his time sitting in the race car for hours on end as his team delivered instruction after instruction to him via a headset.
Zane had a knack of knowing what information to take on board and what to dismiss – and he was never scared of sharing his opinions afterward either.
‘Brother, you need to fight for your boy,’ Zane said. ‘You say you don’t know exactly what’s going on. Well, what do you know? You know that this manager asshole is… well, an asshole. You know that Sammy doesn’t want to be doing all this filming anymore.’
‘Yeah, I suppose…’
‘Suppose? No. You know this,’ Zane said. ‘I’m not going to even try and tell you what to do, but you need to follow your instinct. It’s served you well before. I say let it serve you now too.’
Harrison nodded and both he and Zane toasted their beers.
There was time for some more drinks. Harrison had a lot to think about, but there was nothing he could do that night. The beer and the whiskey saw to that.
All that remained was for Harrison to listen to Zane’s advice and follow his gut. Sammy was Harrison’s boy – and Harrison wanted to make sure that Sammy was as happy as he could be.
Right now, every bone in Harrison’s body was telling him that this wasn’t the case and something needed to be done.
But Harrison was stressed about the Dean’s threats too.
It was time for more booze. Thinking could wait after all.
Tomorrow would be a new day, and the night was made for drinking…