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heavyweight champion of the world, Slate isn’t exactly someone you can just ignore.
    "Jesus Christ, it’s not what you think," I lie. "I was just having a bad day and needed to put a few things down on paper."
    "Bullshit. You were saying goodbye to her," he snarls, and I feel the rage rolling off him.
    I know he would never want anything to happen to me, but that is not where his concern is aimed. He’s pissed right now at the idea that I might do something that would hurt Erica. And I respect the hell out of him for that.
    "What do you want me to say here?" I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Why the fuck are you going through my shit, anyway?"
    "Because when I got here this morning, you had been on a three-day bender and I was fucking worried." He sucks in a calming breath and cracks his neck. It takes a few seconds for him to push it all down, but he finally looks me in the eye and asks, "Now please explain the note."
    I let out a resigned sigh. "I’m drowning."
    "Right. I got that," he answers.
    "No, you don’t understand. When I had Erica, my goal in life was to keep her safe and make her happy. I spent every minute of the day focusing on her. Trying to make some sort of amends for what I did to her. But now she’s gone, and I feel like I am dying."
    He blinks at me for a few seconds. "Leo, I’ve never felt the need to ask this before, but right now, I’m really fucking confused. Are you in love with Erica?"
    "Oh for fuck’s sake." I push past him out of my bedroom and head to the rec room, where I think I left my wallet last night. "See, this is the bullshit I get for trying to talk to someone!" I shout over my shoulder with a sarcastic laugh.
    "Well, you’re not making any sense."
    I pause and spin around to face him. "My life doesn’t make sense. No, I’m not in love with Erica. I have never once looked at her like that. Yes, I love her, and in some sick way, she is the only family I have left. But you can rest easy, big man. I’m not in love with your fiancée," I say humorlessly.
    "Then what is the big issue with her being gone?"
    "She was my distraction!" I shout. "I spent the last four years trying to make her better, but now, she’s gone and the choices I’ve made flash like neon lights around me. I can’t focus on anything else. I was wrong. I thought seeing her happy and moving on would release me. It didn’t though—it made it worse. I fucking hate myself. I let an innocent woman be raped—repeatedly."
    I know my words have made their way under his skin, but he still manages to grit out from between clenched teeth, "You had no choice."
    "Bullshit. Everyone has a choice. I should have let them kill me."
    "They would have killed her! Get your God damn head straight. I fucking hate you for what you did—or, rather, didn’t do—but she made it out alive. You saved her on more than one occasion. Consider your penance paid!"
    "It’s not enough. I can’t live like this."
    "So, what? You’re now planning to kill yourself? You think that would help Erica?"
    "No, but it would help me!" I scream.
    "Leo," I hear Erica squeak from behind me.
    Fuck.
    "I have to get out of here." I walk past her, not even able to look her in the eye after what I know she just heard.
    I pass Johnson, who’s standing at the door. He’s no doubt the asshole who let Slate up here today. Then I rush down the back stairs until I hit the parking garage only to realize I never found my keys or wallet.
    The door swings open behind me and I steel myself for more of Slate and Erica. But it’s Johnson who comes leisurely strolling out, immediately lighting a cigarette.
    "Come on, boss. I’ll take you wherever you want to go." He walks over to an immaculately restored muscle car.
    "Shit. Thank you." I climb into the passenger’s side, not sure where I’m planning to go. This is the first time I’ve ever actually wanted to run from Erica.

    I HAVE been hit by a car—no, it was definitely a truck. That is the only thing I can