9. Knight #2
“You can remember your number? Impressive,” I said, only instead of it coming out neighborly, it was my late-night DJ voice, and her head snapped up, eyes narrowing at me. Would she spit on me and rub off the number? That would be so great.
She gave me a crooked smile. “Oh yeah. It’s my best party trick. Later.” She turned and ducked under the ropes like she was born in a ring, then was gone.
I sat down on the mat when my legs went out from under me, leaving me a limp noodle of madness. I needed to call my therapist, but first I needed to find my phone. And then what picture could I send? No body parts. Not that I had body parts stuffed in the freezer or anything.
“You okay, Boss?” Jerome asked, crouching down beside me.
“Clearly. My legs have fallen off. I’m always okay when my legs fall off.”
“They seem to still be connected.”
I scowled at him at a sudden thought that wasn’t numbers-related.
“How is she going to get back home if she left her only transportation here? She should have kept the bike.” I rolled to my feet and ducked under the ropes, suddenly in control of my body.
The dragon might be roaming outside my castle without any way home.
I’d have to rescue her! It was the absolute best day ever.
“Pixel took her,” Jerome said, following me out of the ring.
I stopped walking, frowning at him instead. “He wouldn’t betray me like that.”
Jerome’s thick brow rose, and he crossed his arms as he stared me down. “How’s that?”
“If she needs a ride home, I’m the one who should give it to her. Obviously. I’m the Horse.”
He barely didn’t roll his eyes. “Maybe you should talk to your therapist about your inability to accept love that isn’t abusive.”
“Love? You think her abuse was a sign of love?” I full-on beamed at him until he shifted uncomfortably and turned away.
“Whatever, boss. Just maybe the next time you don’t throw the fight with Nix because she’s watching you. You’ve got the demons to think about.”
I put my large hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
His worrying about me showed how well he was coming along from the self-absorbed addict he’d been.
“It’s just so much more fun to think about dragons than demons.
Particularly mine. She’s just trying to make sure the elevator thing doesn’t happen again by shifting our dynamic from enemies to neighbors.
I should get some sweaters. And slippers.
We could have matching sweaters and slippers! ”
He flinched at the thought, which gave me sick pleasure.
I didn’t help other people with their underlying issues because I was a good person; no, it’s because I had a white knight complex tied to my inability to save myself or my mother.
It wasn’t healthy, per se, but I could cut people up and light them on fire instead.
I knew a guy like that. Or I should say, I’d known a guy like that.
“Sure, boss. I’m sure that wouldn’t freak her out at all. Don’t you have a meeting you’re supposed to be in? You should probably give Marble back his shorts.”
I looked down at the too-tight things. Maybe I should. I did have a meeting. What were the odds I’d be able to concentrate on business when I was thinking about matching sweaters and slippers? Not great, but I’d always preferred challenging odds.
I headed towards the side where I’d pulled off my suit.
My phone was in the pants pocket. That’s right.
And now I could remember my number. And the numbers of everyone on my team, and all the other teams. And dozens of other acquaintances I knew.
I clearly had too many numbers in my head.
I only needed two. The number scrawled on my hand in generic blue ballpoint, and the one of my phone so I could write it on her hand.
She deserved better ink. Something hand-crafted with medicinal properties.
Something boiled down in an iron crucible, forged in the fires of affliction and rage.
What photo should I send? I could send a selfie of myself in my new sweater. It should have a subtle argyle. Maybe leave a few buttons undone so she could see my chest. No. No bodies. Especially mine. That would slide over the line towards creepy way too quickly.
I grabbed my phone, put in her number, took a photo of the floor and hit send before I could spiral.
The immediate crash of emotional lows was a bracing experience that reminded me why I wasn’t seducing the Dragon.
I wanted so much to be everything she desired, but she didn’t want me on a base level.
She might think I was attractive on the outside, but my inside was a mess of manipulative obsession. And somehow she knew it.
It would take me all day to get back to level reactions.
Maybe all week. Which was fine because I had all the time in the world.
Except that she was coming over to borrow sugar.
And while I was picking that up, I really did need a new sweater and slippers.
And I’d get two, one in a slightly smaller size than my extra, extra, extra large.
Although she’d look so cute in my-sized sweater with the shoulder falling off and her toes sticking out the bottom.
Sugar. Stick to the sugar.
I grabbed my suit and carried everything through the desert to wardrobe.
I had a quest from the dragon herself. I would not fail her.