Page 44 of Letting Go

"Don’t fuck with me."

"Well, don’t fuck with me."

Silence follows for several beats.

I take a breath. "So? Did you? Did you take this job 'cause of me?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you did."

"Well, I didn't."

More silence. Then he makes a valid point. "You're not going to change your mind, so it doesn’t matter how I answer."

I don’t know if I feel better or worse. "What the fuck. Colton? Out of all the security companies in the nation? You couldn't pick McIntyre, Romex, Triple, or the literally scores of others?"

He stares ahead, hands at two and ten. This annoys me even more. He's always by the book. Always. It’s twilight now and his features are inscrutable.

"No. Not what I was looking for. I wanted to move east. This hit and my recruiter set it up. It took a while to realize you were on board. I found out like ten days ago, man, give it a rest, Bryce."

"And you couldn't let me know?"

He gently opens his hands and it’s clear from how he's stretching his fingers he'd been gripping the steering wheel hard.

"How do you suggest I contact you? The last five years you've been MIA bro. You changed your number and email I guess. I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t get back to me in all that time."

I have no answer.

He goes on. "I wasn't going to take or not take this job because of you."

An oil rig passes on he left and he flips the headlights on. Lights from the dashboard bathe his face in blue.

"Listen. You've got to let what happened…go. Especially now."

"Easy for you to say."

I'm pissed as hell.

Mateus flashes me a dark look, his eyes glittering like obsidian. "Really? We're going there? We're going to talk about how easy it's been for me?"

I'm shaking my head way before the "No, no, no," trips off my lips.

"Good. Because this isn't about you, Bryce. Believe it or not."

I can't deal with this. With any of it. Chloe, in some kind of danger. Mateus, just showing up. The prospect of working with him again. I can’t I just can’t. I tell him.

"I can’t do this."

"Why? It’s been years bro. What gives?" His smile returns and his teeth flash, but there's pain in his eyes. I know him too well. He is not healed.

"I can't. I'm going to have to tell Finn and Nic everything."

Now it’s his turn to be quiet. Finally, he speaks. "You are dragging yourself over spikes for no reason."

Staring out the front window I deliver the truth: "They need to know why I can't partner with you."

Finally, after an even longer pause, he says. "Up to you, bro. I say not necessary. But is it 'can’t' or 'won't'?"