81. Kai
Kai
“Hello?” I croak, my voice still hoarse from lack of use.
“Hey, it's me. How are you? Mom called and told me what happened but I can’t get on a flight until tomorrow,” Ryo explains, worry creeping into the edges of his voice.
“I’m okay. Feeling a little better after surgery.” Lie. It’s a complete lie. But I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say to people.
“Yeah, but what the fuck happened?”
“Yeah, listen, I don’t really want to talk about it right now—"
“Do the police have any idea who it was? Any leads?” he pushes and I know he won’t let it go.
“Aiden owed some people a lot of money and I helped him pay the debt. That’s all I know.” He’s silent for a moment, taking this in. I can picture him grinding his teeth and pacing back and forth.
“What kind of debt? And who did he owe? And why did you pay it?" He’s spiraling and I’m in no position to answer any of his questions.
“Ryo, I don’t want to get into it right now,” I reply sharply. “But I’m glad you called. I’m selling my house,” I explain without any preamble.
“Which house?” For a smart guy, he can be so dense, so fucking thick sometimes.
“The house you are currently living in. My Thailand house.”
“Is someone after you for money? Is that what this is all about?” he asks, putting pieces together.
I ignore his questions while I try to get more comfortable in the hospital bed. “All that matters is that I’m selling it ASAP and you need to be out of there soon.”
“How soon?”
“As soon as you can. Two weeks max,” I reply, resting my head against the pillow and closing my eyes.
“Jesus, okay,” he grumbles. I can hear him walking to the fridge and taking something out of it, the unmistakable sound of a beer can being opened. He takes a swig.
“I’m sorry about outing you to dad,” I say.
“Yeah, nice fucking move, asshole. It’s okay though, you saved me from having to tell him myself,” he sighs. My life is a mess—everything is a fucking mess. But at least I can try to fix this.
“Still, I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry. So, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, maybe travel. Maybe give med school another shot. I haven’t decided yet.” He pauses. “Kai, how are you really? Don’t bullshit me.”
I swallow and pound my fist into my forehead trying to decide how much to tell him.
“Pretty fucking bad,” I answer. I hear him mutter something under his breath.
He’s trying to figure out how he can protect me from this pain, if he can protect me at all after this.
Because it wasn’t my father who had defended me to coaches that treated me like shit, or stood up to bullies on the playground when I was too scared to do it myself.
It was Ryo.
“What about hockey? Have they talked about a timeline for recovery?”
“My knee is fucked and so is my career,” I respond without any feeling. Because that’s exactly what it is, a fact. Not subjective, not an opinion. Fact. And I’m worried if I examine it with any emotion at all I won’t be able to stop.
“Jesus, Kai. I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, Ryo.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he states. “Hang in there.”
“I’ll try.”