Knight: The Wordsmiths Book One

by Harlan, Christopher

  “Sounds good,” I tell him. “And have fun trolling Greg’s website full of half-naked dudes. I know you’ll enjoy it.”

  “You know what I hope?” Colton asks. I expect him to come back at me with another insult, but instead he reminds me of something that I’m trying actively to forget. “I hope that mother fucker who stole your computer is there. I hope he’s at the table next to us so I can fuck him up in front of his readers.” I get concerned when Colt doesn’t jump at my invitation for some witty banter. He’s had a real problem with anger in the past, and I can see the rage in his eyes right now.

  “Calm down, man,” Gray says, jumping in. “That’s Mike’s issue to deal with. Correct me if I’m wrong, Mike, but I’m guessing a public spectacle where one or more of us gets arrested isn’t the kind of publicity that you want for your new book. Am I right?”

  I nod. Just like last time he brought it up, I appreciate Colton’s protective nature, but if anyone is going to handle the situation it needs to be me, and in my own way. “Yeah. I love that you wanna beat his ass, Colt, but getting arrested isn’t going to bump our sales, it’s just going to mean we’re going to have to spend any profit from the signing for bail money. We’re professionals, let’s try to act that way.” Colton nods his head in agreement, but I can tell he doesn’t totally agree. At the same time I know he’ll do what I want him to do. “But,” I continue, looking at him. “If push comes to shove, back me up, okay?”

  A huge grin shows up on his face. “Do you even need to ask me that?”

  “Hey, look,” Gray says, jumping. “If it comes to that we’ve both got your back, you know that. We can share a cell. It’d be worth it to hit that asshole. But at the same time, let’s call that Plan B, alright?”

  “Agreed,” I say.

  We finish up our drinks and food then go our separate ways. Grayson has another signing this weekend, and he’s prepping for that. I swear he’s a straight road dog, always doing the damn thing. Colton wants to write, but first he has to train, of course. He’s got a standing lesson now with his Muay Thai, boxing, and Jiu Jitsu coaches. He really is getting into that new book.

  As for me?

  I have a date with Everleigh. It’s time that she and I went on a proper date, and I have an awesome idea that I know she’s going to love. I mentioned it the other day, even though she had no idea what it was. It doesn’t matter what we do together, as long as I’m with her. I’m a better version of myself when we’re together, that’s all I know.

  I have a few hours. I’m going to go home, finish my anthology story, and then pick up Everleigh at her place. I can’t wait to see her again.

  26

  Everleigh

  “What the hell is Acro Yoga?”

  Harley asks a great question, and I’d love nothing more than to answer her, but I’m still not totally sure myself. “I Googled it before, it looks like you have to be more than a little coordinated and flexible. All I know for sure is that I’m doing it later with Michael.”

  “You need to be coordinated? Oh, then you’re screwed, Ev!”

  “Shut up, I’ve done Yoga before. I was on a Yoga streak for a while, like a year ago. Remember?”

  “It’s not a sport,” Harley says. “I don’t think you can call it a streak. It’s not like you’re winning the Yoga class. And even if you wanna call it a streak, you only went for like two months.”

  “For me that’s a legit streak.”

  “I don’t know how this Acro stuff works, though, maybe it’s competitive.”

  “No, it’s like couples yoga, but the poses are using both of your bodies. Look.”

  I take out my phone and open up YouTube and type in Acro Yoga. “Holy shit, you’re gonna fall!” Harley laughs at me and she might be right. I’m watching the video I saw before with her and even though it says that these are normal people, they look like trained Cirque de Solei performers.

  “You might be right.”

  “Or,” she continues. “This might be the coolest date that you’ve ever been on. He’s original, I’ll give him that.”

  I’m really excited to be going on a date with Michael. We’ve never been out in the open, just the two of us, but I’m a little worried I’m going to spaz out with this yoga date he planned.

  “That’s a distinct possibility. Honestly, I’m just happy to be going out with him without having to hide anything. It felt weird doing that.”

  "I still can't believe that you're dating Knight!"

  “I know. It's weird to even think of him as my boyfriend. I never would have seen this coming. Honestly I just wanted a chance to look him in the eye and tell him, face to face, how much his work has meant to me. Then maybe a selfie, and a couple of signed books. Hooking up with him was never my intention or idea."

  "You say it like it's a horrible thing, Ev. Do you feel bad about it?"

  "No," I tell her. "Not bad."

  "What then?"

  "Worried. I’m worried about how our relationship is going to look to people. You know how catty some people can be." At first I felt bad, mostly because I was thinking of myself. I didn't want to be that girl, the groupie, the one who was on the prowl for hot male authors. I didn't want to be seen in this community as that kind of woman. But now I'm still worried, just not about myself. "I don't want his career to suffer for this."

  “I get that, but I think that you’re going to be fine. You and I both know there’s a lot more dramatic shit in this world than that. Plus, it’s some hookup. It’s not like he’s got a reputation for sleeping around. And we all know you don’t. So what’s the worry? You can’t live your life around other people’s issues.”

  “That’s exactly what he said to me.”

  “He’s right,” Harley says. “You guys do you, fuck the rest of the world. There’ll be a few petty bitches who’ll gossip, but who cares. Aren’t there always? You have the right to be happy and you finally left that asshole. Do you.”

  “You’re right. Thanks, Harley, I needed to hear that.”

  “What are best friends for?”

  “This,” I say. “Exactly for stuff like this.”

  We finish our coffee and I leave feeling better about the whole scenario. Once that stress is gone it allows me to just let myself be happy and excited about our date. I have to stop home first and get ready.

  27

  Knight

  I’m supposed to pick up Everleigh at five, but I think I’m going to stop by early and surprise her. I’ll grab some flowers at the florist in town and swing by a few minutes early. I don’t know what’s come over me, even when I was with Jenny I wasn’t really the romantic type. She used to complain all the time that I was great at writing romance but terrible at actual romance. Maybe she was right. But Everleigh makes me feel like I’m in high school, like everything is new, like I’m a better version of the man that I want to be. All of a sudden I want to cook for her, and buy her things, and get her flowers and candy. What’s going on with me? Whatever it is I’m going with it, ‘cause I feel great.

  I finish up the last few chapters of my anthology story pretty quickly. The words are really flowing from me lately. Hopefully they’re good words. That’s two original works finished in a matter of weeks. To think that I wasted a year of my life basically writing nothing makes me sad, but it reminds me of how far I’ve come, and how far I still have to go. It’s a short story, only about ten thousand words, so I take a half hour and give it a quick read through before emailing the file to my editor. She hasn’t heard from me in a while, and now I have two different stories for her to fix.

  After I send the email I get ready and head out to Everleigh’s place. We really don’t live that far from each other, I can’t believe we’d never met before the signing. I grab the flowers and follow the GPS directions on my phone until I’m in view of her apartment. Parking in Queens really sucks if you don’t have a house like I do. I remember how stressful it was to find parking when I used to live in a building like t
his.

  It must be my lucky day because there’s a spot only a block away. In New York, finding a spot that close to where you’re going is like finding $100 bill on the street—rare and awesome. I don’t want to just pop in, in case she’s in the shower or something, so I text her that I came early to surprise her. She writes back that she’s on her way home from running some errands, and that I can wait for her in the building if I want. Sounds good to me, so I grab the bouquet of flowers I got and head over. Her apartment is on the ground floor—1C— so I won’t be climbing any steps. When I open the front door to the building I stop for a second.

  Wait. Who the hell is that guy?

  Outside of Everleigh’s door is some dude, just standing there and looking a little creepy. He’s little, and he’s wearing an overcoat. He’s facing her door, but when I open the door to the complex he turns and looks at me, and then goes right back to standing underneath her door. I can see his hands moving frantically, his back still facing me. I can tell he doesn’t realize that I’m here for Everleigh, but I walk right towards him because something about this is giving me a weird vibe.

  “Hey, man,” I say, stopping about a foot behind him near Everleigh’s door. He turns around and looks at me nervously. He has a squirrelly look to him, and I can see that what’s in his hands is a small notepad and a pen. First I think he might be a solicitor or a delivery guy, but he’s not wearing a uniform. Besides that, he’s just acting super weird. I don’t like this at all. And I really don’t like that he just looked at me and then turned around without answering. “You a friend of Everleigh’s?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” This time he has no choice but to answer me because I tap him on the arm. He pulls back like I’m grabbing him or something, even though I just touched him lightly, but I finally get his attention. I want to know just what the hell this guy’s up to.

  “What does that mean, exactly?” I ask. I know I’m being a little aggressive with this guy, but I’m getting a bad feel from him.

  “It means it’s none of your fucking business who I am, guy.”

  “Guy?” I take a step towards him so that I’m really close. I don’t like this person, whoever he is, and I don’t like his fucking attitude. I can tell he doesn’t expect it because he takes a small enough step back for me to notice, even though he’s trying to be tough. I can see right through his facade. Tough people are confident in themselves. They don’t talk to people like he’s speaking to me, and they don’t take a step back. “Who are you talking to? Forget that question. What the fuck are you doing outside of my girlfriend’s door when she’s not home. Who are you?”

  He looks at me intensely when I say the word girlfriend, and then it clicks. This is the ex. He looks enraged at me using that word, and I can see in his eyes that his anger is making him want to lash out at me, but he’s too much of a pussy to actually do it. “Your what?” he asks.

  “No, I’m not the one who needs to answer questions right now, bud, you are. Like, who the fuck are you, and what the hell are you doing creeping outside of Everleigh’s door?”

  “Jeremey,” he says. “I’m Jeremey. And I’m just dropping something off.”

  “Oh yeah, what?”

  “None of your fucking business, new boyfriend.”

  That’s it. This fucker is about to get some.

  28

  Everleigh

  I’m driving a little fast because I know Michael’s waiting for me. I came home and got into my workout clothes a little while ago, but I forgot that there was nothing in my fridge but some expired milk, so I decided to bum it and go to the grocery store in my leggings and tee shirt. I don’t want him to have to wait too long for me, so I treat a few yellow traffic lights like they’re green so I can get home as quickly as possible.

  There are no spots, of course, so I park around the block and walk. I text Michael that I’m on my way but I don’t hear back. I hope he isn’t pissed that he’s had to wait. As soon as I get to my doorstep I see something happening in the hallway. It looks like two male bodies in a violent dance. It takes me a second to realize what’s happening, and I’m horrified.

  Holy shit. Michael’s fighting Jeremey. The sight is so weird that I don’t even have time to process. I just start screaming. “Stop it, stop it!”

  Men fighting is scary. They’re all over each other, their bodies intertwined and violent. Michael gets on top of Jeremey and starts punching him while he’s on the ground. I don’t even think he heard me, so I run over and grab his arm. “MICHAEL, STOP!” This last scream and the touch of my hand breaks him out of his frenzy. He looks like a wild animal. His hair is all messed up, his face is red, and the tattoo on his forearm is sprinkled with Jeremey’s blood. I don’t know what to think or feel, but I know that I can’t stand violence. “What the fuck is going on here?”

  “This maniac attacked me!” Jeremey yells. “I was just here to leave you a note.”

  “You shouldn’t be here doing anything,” I yell back, focusing my anger on him first. “We’ve been broken up for a while now, and I told you that I don’t want to see you anymore. Do I have to get a restraining order?”

  “No,” he says, speaking really quietly as he gets back to his feet. “Of course not. I. . . I just wanted to talk is all.”

  “Oh bullshit,” Michael yells. “I know a creepy ex when I see one, and trust me, this guy doesn’t want to just talk. Who the hell comes to their ex girlfriend’s empty apartment and just stands in the hallway writing notes while she’s not home. You’re fucked up, man.”

  “And who are you to be calling anyone that?” I yell, angry that Michael is acting like this. “Who threw the first punch, huh? Did he attack you first?” He doesn’t answer, just stares at me, and I have my answer. “Right, so you think it’s okay to just start wailing on someone outside my place. What was he even doing?”

  “I was writing you a note, like I said.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Michael lunges at him again, and I stand in between them to stop his advance. I’ve never seen this side of him. Jeremey looks bad. I don’t know how long they were going at it, but he definitely got the worst of it. His eye is bruised and there’s blood coming out of his nose, dripping onto his shirt.

  “Stop it. Get out, Michael!”

  “What? Me? What are you talking about? That’s bullshit!”

  “I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’ll text you later. Just, please go.”

  My heart breaks when he looks at me. He’s got a tear in his eye, but he’s holding it back. He’s still breathing heavy from the fight, and now that he’s totally facing me there’s even more blood on him. I can’t even look at him right now.

  “Fine, I’ll go,” he says. “But watch out for that one.”

  He points at Jeremey for a second, then turns and leaves. Now I have to deal with this one. What happened to the great day I was supposed to be having?

  “So you’re dating a criminal, huh?”

  “He’s not a criminal,” I tell him. “He probably thought you were here to hurt me or something.”

  “What’s his name? He looks familiar. Is he one of those porn writers you were always reading, even though I told you not to?”

  “It’s not porn, Jeremey, and I’m not getting into this again. You don’t get to tell me what to read, and you never should have tried to begin with. That’s why we’re not together anymore. That’s one of the reasons, anyhow. Why are you here?”

  “I just wanted to leave you a note.”

  “That’s not appropriate. We broke up. You don’t get to see me anymore, and sure as hell not just popping up unannounced at my new. . .” I stop in mid sentence because I realize he shouldn’t have this address. I’m unlisted, and I haven’t posted it anywhere on social media, of course. I was so caught up in their fight that I didn’t even think about that. I shouldn’t be asking why Jeremey’s here, I should be asking how he’s here. All of a sudden I regret sending Michael away, and I feel afraid, like
Jeremey might try something. I can’t scream or yell, and that’s not even something I’d normally do, but I really need him to leave right now.

  My heart starts racing but I stay calm. Michael’s not even visible anymore. “I’ll look at your note, but I need you to respect me and go, alright? I can’t have you just showing up here, but I promise I’ll read it. Alright?”

  “Fine,” he says, huffing and seeming a little agitated. “I’m out of here. Until next time.”

  “There’s not going to be a next. . .” He’s out the door before I finish my statement. I take a deep breath, still a little rocked from that encounter, and go inside. What the hell was that? I almost kill myself as my foot slips out from underneath me and I have to grab the wall to stop from falling. I flick the light switch and look down, not believing my eyes at first. There’s paper everywhere. There must be ten different sheets from a note pad, all slipped under the door.

  I squat down and start picking them up, one at a time, until I have them all gathered. Each has a sentence or two on it. As I read them my heart starts to race again. One says, “We’ll be together again.” Another reads, “Mistake to leave me.” And a third says, “Soon. Very soon.”

  I feel nauseous when I’m done. I put them in a drawer and sit down on my couch. There are so many emotions running through me right now that I’m not sure how to sort them. I need my girls. I text Harley and Ro and just ask them to come over. As I wait for a response I start to think a little more clearly. I can touch base with Michael tomorrow.

  But I know what I need to do about Jeremey now.