Odds Are 01 - Despite the Odds by Chris T. Kat

Author:Chris T. Kat [Kat, Chris T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2015-05-21T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

JOSHUA WHEEZED as he doggedly rode Rhonda toward Michael’s apartment. He hadn’t been there before, but Michael had given him his address shortly after their first night out. He’d seemed rather embarrassed and mumbled something about it being a shitty place but that he couldn’t afford something better yet. Joshua hadn’t asked any further questions. He was cool with going out to eat together and then watching movies at his place. At home, he didn’t have to worry about falling over anything or needing help.

But now… Joshua’s heart thundered in his rib cage as he recalled his surprise when Michael’s truck had been gone before lunchtime. He’d met Henderson and asked him about Michael’s whereabouts, and that’s when his heart had really done some nasty stumbling.

He had to see Michael, know that he was all right. Henderson had assured him Michael had mostly been surprised but was okay and Hicks, the foreman, would check on him later. Still, since Wednesday was his early day off anyway, Joshua took Rhonda, picked up some cinnamon rolls and doughnuts, and pedaled toward Michael’s apartment.

He should’ve realized that riding his bike over Albany Avenue Bridge would be difficult and exhausting for him. What the hell had he been thinking? He really hoped his phone showed him the right direction, because he’d never been in this area.

People stared at him when he pulled off the bridge and into Chelsea Heights. Some laughed and commented on his bike. The familiar rush of humiliation tore through him. He gritted his teeth, determined not to let people’s arrogance get to him—or, even worse, to turn around and flee back to his apartment.

Finally, he reached Michael’s apartment complex. Farther up the curb, he discovered Michael’s truck. Teenagers lingered in the building’s entranceways, tapping their feet to their ghetto blasters’ music. Or whatever the hell it was that blared from the loudspeakers.

Joshua climbed off his bike, ignoring the way his leg muscles trembled. He could do this. Not everyone got a kick out of scaring him. He pushed his bike closer to the front door, his mouth going dry at the calculating looks on the teenagers’ faces. There had to be a crowd of about ten, boys and girls of different ethnicities. With shaking fingers, he locked his bike and retrieved his backpack. After shouldering into it, he took the bag with food from his basket.

Slowly, he made his way to the entrance, aware of several people staring at him. Maybe he should call Michael, ask him to come downstairs? The bike ride had exhausted him more than he thought it would. As he struggled on, he knew he was weaving from side to side, his gait wide. He braced himself for the nasty comments, calling him a rotten drunkard or whatever else those kids deemed appropriate.

A hand landed on his shoulder, startling Joshua into a frightened yelp. One of the boys gripped his biceps, and Joshua readied himself to scream bloody murder, when the boy smiled at him. “Hey, mister.

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