Page 106 of The Sound of Him

I drive down the dirt road and onto the main thoroughfare that leads to the highway. I drive for exactly five minutes. I don’t fall asleep at the wheel.

I pull over.

I consider calling Keaton instead, even though it wouldn’t be fair to put the weight of this on his shoulders. He’s fought other battles for these men already. All he ever does is fight others’ battles. This one I can take on.

I make the call.

He doesn’t make me wait long, which is probably good - I’m starting to have a damn hard time keeping my eyes open.

Instead of a greeting, he answers with the words, “Keaton is worried about you. You’re dodging him.”

I deflate into my seat.I so do not have time for that right now.“He’s always worrying. It fuels him. I’m fine.”

“Ace-”

“I have a favor to ask.”

There’s a long silence, full of disapproval at being cut off. I have to remind myself that Kellan doesn’t punish. He never did. Not once. The closest he got was a pointed look, or a bigger than usual sigh, or a soft, “Ace, let’s reconsider that decision.”

I can’t speak for his expression, but there’s no sigh, and when he finally speaks, it’s a different set of words instead. “You never ask for favors.”

“Uh - no, sir. You’ve done so much for me, I just-”

“Sir?” he echoes, his tone slipping sideways a little. “Since when do you call me that?”

He’s right, but…fuck, I’m exhausted. And scared. I’m actually really fucking scared.“Sorry. I’m - I’m just tired. Sorry, Kellan. But you’re right, I don’t usually - well, I don’t like to ask for favors because you saved my life and you gave me so much, you gave meeverything, and-”

“This is disgusting. No. Stop. I will grant you whatever favor you want as long as you don’t continue this line of conversation. You’re making me itchy.”

I manage a huffed laugh. Or maybe a delirious laugh. Or maybe I don’t even make a sound at all.

“Right. Sorry.”

“Hey, remember my sticky note? You’re not supposed to apologize for things. What’s the favor?”

“Well-”

That’s as far as I get before my throat closes up.

I stare out of the windshield at the trees stretching endlessly down the road and over the hills. Some of them are starting to change colors, splashing the horizon with oranges and yellows.

“Ace?”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Sorry forwhat?” he asks, his tone soft, almost hushed. “Hey, kid, come on, sorry for what?”

“I-”

The trees are blurring together, oranges and reds melding, the greens looking more like patches of darkness trying to pop out from behind the bright colors.

“Stick to the facts. Let’s talk through this. Who is the favor about? You? Keaton?”

“The brothers.”

“Alright, good. What do you need me to do for the brothers?”

“The younger one, Carter, he wants to leave, but-”fuck, fuck, fuck, this is bad, fuck, don’t do it, he’ll kill them, fuck,“-he wants to go to this college. And… he wants - well, it’s actually Maison, really, it’s Maison who wants - he’s just worried about Carter and he was hoping-”