Trying to behave

Chapter 17

January 2016

Saturday, the 2nd, 1:24am

New York, USA

Donny taps a finger on the desk in front of him, the tame start of what he knows will be an intense headache pounding against his skull. The phone balanced between his ear and his shoulder feels a little hot to touch and he mentally vows to not overwork the device because this is ridiculous. All of it.

Shuffling on the other line, silence.

He taps his finger once. Twice.

Waits.

His headache gets a little worse.

'Um,' Terry's voice is still as nasally as it was two minutes ago but now, with the betrayal and exhaustion in his bones more pronounced, feels a little like nails on a chalkboard. Donny winces and growls, holds the phone away from his ear. 'So. I just checked up on the signal and everything,'

'Like I asked you to,' he snaps. Knows he's being a bitch. 'Don't waste my time, Terrance,'

'Jeez,' his voice is so fucking annoying and Donny has half a mind to just shoot him up if he wasn't about to be useful right now. 'We're all fucking tired here, you don't gotta be such a fucker,'

I'm not fucking tired, he wants to screech, because sleeping is the last thing he wants to do right now. The last fucking thing.

Other things, yes. But being dead to the world does not sound like a good idea right now.

'Just tell me what you got,' Donny sighs, rubbing at his aching temples slowly and figures that being semi civil will get him somewhere before he quite literally pops a vein. He hasn't been this stressed since he joined the ring in the first place and that's saying something. 'Come on, Terrance. I have discipline to maintain in this shithole,'

Lies.

'Uh,' there's some typing on the other end of the line and Terry coughs a little. Has he always been this annoying? Probably. 'So, the signal that you asked me to track is, um,' more typing. A thudding sound. 'It didn't leave the walls of your apartment. All day,'

Oh.

'Like,' Terry's still talking, that drawly nasally sound but Donny's done with the conversation just like that. So done, it's unbelievable. 'I mean, tracking the phone signal is what you asked me to do right? Apart from like one phone call last night, it's been quite inactive? It was literally just in the same place all through the hours I checked. It didn't move once,'

'Are you sure?' Donny knows it's a stupid stretch of a question because the tracking staff is the best of the best. But what he's saying isn't possible. 'Are you absolutely sure, Terrance?'

Silence.

The unsure kind as if what's just passed between them is awkward, and it is a little bit.

'Well,' his tone is slow and laced with unspoken questions when he speaks up again, drowning in some more typing and it's fucking annoying. 'I could recheck it, if you like? I mean, I'm sure, but,' more typing. Terry sounds a little nervous. 'If it gives you peace of mind?'

It ruins my life.

'Sure,' Donny shrugs even though he's very much alone and messed up in his own thoughts and leans back in his desk chair, whisky bottle clutched in a hand that's suddenly gone clammy and he isn't sure if it's from the anger or the disappointment. 'Check on, then,'

He knows that's a bad idea. Knows that hearing the same thing twice in a row won't do shit for his mood but what can he do when he actually likes self-destructing? Just sits back and takes a swig from the bottle and lets the obnoxious typing drown out the burn in his throat.