Milked

Skylar | something's missing.

I dreaded the remainder of the day as I made my way to Phil's house. The turn of events in our relationship was so strange, given that our visits had been so exciting to me not long before.

When I went inside, Phil offered me a beer, as usual, and I accepted. Once he returned from the kitchen with our freshly opened cans, the two of us sipped from them in an awkward silence.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Have you been distancing yourself from me?"

"No," I lied.

"I just feel like we haven't been as close as we were. And last time you came over, you brought your roommate. It was like you didn't want to be alone with me."

"That's not it. My roommate is just a hot mess right now, and I wanted to give her something to do." It wasn't totally a lie.

"My friends say millennials don't like getting close to people."

Even though I knew I didn't like being close to people, that I didn't like being connected to people, I felt myself growing defensive. "All that shit about labelling millennials is ridiculous, Phil. I am more than my generation. You don't need to consult your friends about my behaviors."

"I know. I just wish I knew why things have changed."

Even his concern felt intimate, and I felt myself deflecting his words, trying to belittle his concern. "You don't have to make a big thing of it."

"That's it, isn't it? I made a big thing about it when you didn't want a big thing. You wanted a small thing."

"Phil—"

"It's fine. I get it. You're young. You've got your whole life ahead of you. I'm just some old guy with a beer belly."

"I slept with someone else," I blurted out. "Remember my friend Loren?" I thought of the article this morning, and about how upset Loren had been when I'd confronted him about his career. Now anyone who read the school newspaper would know he was a porn star, and he wouldn't get the chance to tell them about his fuck it all, about being schemed in Vegas. I thought about how I was slightly grossed out that he slept with other people for money, but then I thought about how money was the reason I'd gotten with Phil. "I'm a bad person, Phil. I mean, we only know each other because I wanted your money."

His face darkened. "I thought we moved past this."

"I don't think we'll ever move past this."

"Because you're holding on to it. And why are you telling me all this other stuff?"

"I feel like you have the right to know," was all I could say in response.

"Well, if we're being honest, Skylar, it does hurt my feelings to know that you slept with that kid. It shouldn't, because it's not like we're a couple or anything, but it does. But I don't think you're a bad person. You know I think you're a great person."

"Why? Why do you think I'm so great?"

"Because you're a hard-ass," he said, smiling for the briefest moment, then looking back down like he was sad.

I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't feel like a hard-ass; I felt like the asshole of the century.

He broke the silence before I did. "Look...I need to ask you something else. I'm not accusing you, but...well...I have a very personal and private chest of treasures." He looked into my eyes here, and I could tell he knew I had gone snooping. He continued, "Something's missing from it. And it went missing after you and your roommate came over."

Damn it. He knew. "Yes, Meg and I snooped, and I took a swig of your scotch. I regretted it as soon as I did it, and I'm sorry."

"The gun is missing," he said harshly.

"The...gun is missing?"

He nodded, and I took a few moments to digest what he was saying.

"Oh, shit," I said quietly, realization donning on me. "Meg took it."

"Why does Meg want my gun?"

Standing up, I put my hands over my head. "Oh no, no, no, no, no."

Phil stood up and stopped me in my tracks, putting his arms on my shoulders. "Skylar, you're scaring me."

I put my hands down. "Do you remember how we met?"

"Yeah. At that restaurant."

"No. I meant Make Arrangements."

He nodded.

"Meg is the one who got me to sign up for that site. She was already using it. She's been serving as some lawyer's companion, and...I don't think she's been enjoying it."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been ignoring all of the signs, but I think she might be in serious trouble. She's been doing things with that guy that she doesn't want to be doing. I'm not sure if he's forcing her or what, but—"

"Who is he?"

"He's some divorce lawyer. Richard something."

His face got even more serious. "Richard Watson?"

"That's the one. You know him?"

Phil's face darkened. "We know each other. My wife was married before she met me, and he was the lawyer who worked for her ex. They used some dirty tricks to turn her world upside down."

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to figure out what to do.

"Skylar, what do you think she plans to do with that gun?"

Opening my eyes, I said, "I have no idea. I don't think she's capable of shooting anyone, but I don't know. I also never thought she'd do drugs, and she was definitely on something the other day."

"Is she suicidal?"

"I don't know."

"Does she fear for her life?"

Guilt sent pangs into my stomach, because I hadn't been paying enough attention to know the answer to either of those questions. "I haven't been the best of friends to her. I've asked her if she's okay, but she always says she's fine. I'm not sure. She doesn't trust me."

"We need to find her. If she needs help with Richard, I'll help."

Immediately, I took out my phone and called her, praying she would pick up. When she didn't, I called again. Then I texted her.

"She's not answering," I told Phil.

"Fuck!" he said, pacing back and forth. Then he stopped, and looked at me. "I can find out where he lives. We need to go there."

I nodded solemnly, and he went into his office, where I heard him making calls, probably to find out where Richard lived. Anxiety made me want to scream, but I forced myself to breathe to try to calm down. Phil emerged ten minutes later, and he went straight to his truck, so I assumed he found the address.

When I got into the passenger's seat, before I buckled up, I sent Meg two last texts: "We're coming to find you. Phil found out where Richard lives."

"Meg. I care about you."