I’mnotgood.
Ricky once told me to never let a guy beat you more than two times. Once is a warning. Twice is a lesson. Anything more, he’s schooling you on what you need to up your fucking game. He was talking about racing, but in a sense, he should have been talking about Rhya.
I’m back to the question of why did it take me so long to go to Gage?
I have an answer for you now.
It wouldn’t have made a goddamn bit of difference. Just like you can’t change the sum of two numbers, you can’t change people who aren’t willing to change. This was always going to be the outcome, wasn’t it?
I stare at Gage, unable to walk away completely without knowing if he has any remorse. “I know Jaime didn’t, but did youevergive a shit about her, or was it only for the head?”
Why the fuck am I even asking? I don’t know. Maybe because I need to know I came here for a reason other than to get my ass kicked.
Gage laughs. “Jesus Christ, you can’t let this shit go, can you?” His jaw clenches but he doesn’t look at me. His hands run down the front of his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles in the black fabric. Then he does look at me, and I can see he doesn’t hold remorse. Not someone like him. “It must really fuck ya up inside that even with your money, fame, looks. . . youcouldn’tget that bitch clean. She didn’t want you, man. She wanted your money, and even that wasn’t enough to make her quit to be with you. Weren’t you guys supposed to be like childhood sweethearts and yet, she called me to suckmydick to get high. As soon as she got out of that ritzy joke of a rehab, she was calling me.” He tilts his head, raising eyebrow. “That right there should tell you something about your precious Rhya.”
Is that my answer?
It should be, shouldn’t it?
In a way, it is.
