Too Late

He stares at me for a few seconds and then he smiles. “Get a dessert for the celebration.”

Celebration? My throat suddenly becomes itchy and it’s hard to swallow. “Okay,” I say, my voice weak. “What are we celebrating?”

His eyes leave mine and move straight ahead again. “You’ll see.”





I have no idea why Asa invited us over for dinner. We’ve been at his house almost every night lately; tonight shouldn’t be any different. I was hoping Sloan was being paranoid in her text when she said he’s losing his mind, but I’m a little worried she’s spot-on.

I can smell the food before I even open the front door. When I walk inside and look around, Dalton is the only one not here yet. Jon and Asa are taking up both recliners and Kevin is on the couch.

Asa is leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, remote in hand, flipping through news channels. When he hears the door close behind me, he turns around.

I nod my head in his direction and he turns back to the TV. “Do you watch the news, Carter?”

I glance toward the kitchen to see Sloan standing at the bar, wiping it down with a rag. I can see her from where I’m standing, but Asa can’t.

“Sometimes,” I say.

Sloan cuts her eyes to mine and lifts a finger to her hair. I run my thumb across my bottom lip. She lifts her other hand to her head and twirls three of her fingers in her hair. Then five. Then all ten. Then she’s mock-ripping at her hair with both hands, twirling it in all directions, letting me know she’s going crazy.

I want to smile at her, but I force myself to walk into the living room and take a seat next to Kevin. “Why’d you want to know if I watch the news?” I ask Asa.

He flips to another channel. “I haven’t heard anything about my father. Just making sure he survived and I’m not about to be arrested for murder.”

He says it so nonchalant, like the possibility of being arrested for murder is a daily occurrence. I nod, but fail to tell him that his father survived. He wasn’t even hurt that bad, actually. The casino called an ambulance for him, but other than a broken nose and a broken jaw, there isn’t any serious damage. The guy didn’t even want to press charges. Dalton told me all this after he checked into it today.

He also told me the guy was an addict, he was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic, and he had a shitload of other issues. I hate to say it, I have a little sympathy for Asa somewhere deep down inside. There’s no telling what he went through as a child with that man as a father. But sympathy is as far as it goes. You can sympathize with someone and still wish they were dead.

I keep the information about his father’s condition to myself. I think it’s good that Asa is worried about repercussions. It’s not something he probably experiences very often.

Asa sighs after flipping through all the news channels twice and coming up empty. He stands up and throws the remote toward Jon. “You guys make sure and wash your hands. My fiancée worked hard cooking this dinner and I don’t want any of you fuckers seated at my table with filthy hands.” He heads to the stairs and runs up to his room. His bedroom door closes, and I glance at Kevin, who is staring at the empty stairs.

“He’s being really fucking weird,” Kevin says.

Jon begins flipping through the channels and says, “What’s new?”

Neither one of them bothers going to the kitchen to wash their hands, so I use the opportunity to walk in there. Sloan is pulling the meatloaf out of the oven when I pass her. “Hey, Sloan,” I say casually.

She looks at me, but doesn’t smile. She shoots me a look that tells me we need to talk. There’s just not really a way to do that right now. I turn the water on and she walks the meatloaf to the counter next to me. She sticks a knife between the loaf and the pan and begins working it loose.

“I messed up today,” she whispers.

I turn the water to a lower pressure so I can hear her better.

“I found out he’s been lying to me about my brother’s benefits. I confronted him. Told him I was leaving him. He got really angry.”

“Sloan,” I say quietly. Why the hell would she do that? “Are you okay?”

She shrugs. “I am right now. But something is off with him, Carter. I’m scared. He sat in the shower with his clothes on for half an hour. Then when I got home from the grocery store, I looked out the window and saw him sitting on a lounge chair, staring at the pool. Then he just started slapping his palm against his forehead. He did it thirty-six times. I counted.”

Jesus Christ.

She glances up at me and I hate how scared she looks. I should just take her now. Grab her hand, pull her outside while he’s upstairs, and get her the fuck out of here.

“Now he keeps saying he has a surprise for me. He’s talking like this dinner is some kind of celebration,” she whispers. “I’m scared to find out what it is we’re celebrating.”

Asa’s footsteps move overhead, like he’s about to head downstairs. Sloan grabs the pan of meatloaf and walks it to the table.

The other two guys must hear Asa heading downstairs as well, because they’re at the sink now, preparing to wash their hands like he instructed.

We help Sloan carry the rest of the food to the table, just as Dalton walks through the front door. It’s only 6:55, but he sees Asa bounding down the stairs and he apologizes for being late.

“You aren’t late,” Asa says. “You’re right on time.”

I take a seat, and it ends up being directly across from Asa. Diagonal from Sloan. It’s oddly quiet as everyone passes around the food, divvying it onto their plates. Once all the food has been passed around the table, Asa grabs his fork and says, “Should we say grace?”

No one speaks. We all just stare at him, wondering if he’s kidding or if someone needs to start praying before he flips his shit.

He laughs loudly and says, “You stupid fucks.” He shoves his fork into his mashed potatoes and swallows a bite.

Jon says, “This is twice in a row we’ve had dinner here. What gives? Is this what happens when you become domesticated?”

Asa narrows his eyes in Jon’s direction, then washes his mashed potatoes down with his beer. “Where’s Jess tonight?”

Jon shrugs. “Haven’t seen her in a few days. I think we broke up.”

Asa chuckles, then he looks at me. “Where’s Tillie?”

I run my thumb across my bottom lip. “Working. She might stop by tomorrow night.”

Asa licks his lips, taking another sip of his beer. “That would be nice,” he says. Then he looks at Dalton. “How come you’ve never brought a girl over?”

Dalton speaks with a mouthful of meatloaf. “She lives in Nashville.”

Asa nods and says, “What’s her name?”

“Steph. She’s a singer. She’s why I was almost late, actually. She signed a recording contract today and she called to tell me about it.” He looks proud when he talks about her.

It almost makes me laugh, because there is no Steph. He just made all that shit up on the fly, and Asa swallows it down like a warm glass of milk. “That’s cool,” Asa says.

Asa likes Dalton. I can tell by the way he looks at him—without any suspicion at all. Not like the way he looks at me.

“Something wrong with your fucking mouth, Carter?”

I glance at him and raise my eyebrow.

“You’re rubbing your goddamn lip raw.”

I didn’t even realize I was still rubbing my lip. I pull my hand from my mouth. “All good,” I say, taking a bite of the meatloaf. The last thing I want to do is provoke him. Not with the way he’s been acting lately.

Asa takes another bite of his meatloaf, and then he rests his hands beside his plate. “So,” he says. “I have a little surprise.” He smiles, and then looks over at Sloan. I can see the roll of her throat when she swallows.

“What is it?” she asks cautiously.

Asa opens his mouth to speak, but he’s cut off by a loud banging on the front door. I can see the irritation in his eyes as he turns to glance at the living room door. A second loud knock occurs.

He drops his silverware with a loud clank onto the table and looks around at all of us. “Any of you expecting company? In the middle of fucking dinner?”

No one speaks up.

He scoots back from the table and slaps his napkin beside his plate. When he turns to walk into the living room, Sloan glances across the table at me. She looks scared, but also relieved that his big surprise was just interrupted. I turn to Dalton and he raises an eyebrow.

We all look at Asa as he peers through the peephole. He stares for several seconds and then presses his forehead to the door. “Fuck.” He turns and rushes to the kitchen, grabbing Sloan by the arm and pulling her up out of her chair. He grips her shoulders and says, “Go up to the room and lock the door. Don’t open it whatever you do.”

I scoot my chair back and stand up. Dalton does the same. We both look at each other and then back at Asa.

“Who’s at the door?” Jon asks, pushing his chair back as well. I don’t think any of us have ever seen Asa this worried.