Pearce Hudson: #1 My Italian Devil

22.Lose the battle, win the war

"I could've driven myself," Will complained as I helped him into the car.
"I needed to distract myself."
"Now I'm a distraction?"
"Quit complaining. I thought it'd be a good way to fill you in with the case."
"Okay so fill me in."
"We decided instead of directly trying to take down, we want to take down everyone who helps or works for Dante. We take away his sources, Dante will stand alone and it'll be way easier to get him."
"That's actually a pretty good plan. Good thinking, kid."
"Thanks?"
"What else?"
"Nothing."
"You have a really pissed look on your face."
"I'm not pissed. I'm just tired."
"Is there something else-"
"I'm not pissed!" I gathered my anger then added, "I'm sorry. It's just Dante. I have court tomorrow. I have divorce to lose. It's too much."
I pulled into the parking lot of Will's condo.
"Look I mean it. If you wanna talk I'm here."
I hit the wheel, causing the honk to sound. I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled at my hair. "My dad disowned me."
"Pearce you're an adult," Will said. "Why does it matter?"
"Why does it matter?! I'm Italian okay? I was brought up this way. Disownment may not mean a lot to you but it means a lot to me."
"Well it's his loss."
"I don't get why," I shook my head. "Forget that. Do you have your meds?"
Will shook the white paper bag with the hospital logo on it.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I said as he got out of the car.
"What are you going to do now?"
"Go over the case. Think about what I might say tomorrow. You know boring stuff."
"Pearce," he said in a warning voice. "Don't do...just...good luck tomorrow."
"Good luck to what, losing a divorce?"

I've been up and down the stairs everyday. And everyday it was just two apartments across from one another. But today it looked like two options. Option A, Jake's door, you could talk to him and explain your real feelings. Or Option B, my door, avoid talking, get drunk and re-watch Downton Abbey on Netflix. Because I'm dumbass I went with option A and knocked on Jake's door.

"It's open," he shouted on the other side of the door. I found him sitting on his sofa, typing busily away at his laptop. He was shirtless, again, but in running shorts and Nikes. His chest was glistening with sweat and his hair was matted with it. He had a black band around his bulging bicep holding his phone.

"Oh hey. I was came from a run. Let me throw something on."
"No it's okay. I just wanted to check in to see if you anything on Dante's phone?" Liar.
"It's going to take some time," he said while walking towards the kitchen. I heard the fridge open and close. Then he spoke again coming out and holding two Gatorade bottles, "He has some serious encryption on his phone. It's not impossible to break." He handed me a bottle and started chugging his.

"Alright thanks then. Just checking in." I turned around and began walking to the door. Stop me. Call my name. Say anything. I'm so pathetic.
"Hey what are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"
"Nothing. I mean I don't have anything planned."
"Would like to have lunch...with me. Tomorrow at Hillstone. At around 1."
He brushes me off. He literally calls me a slut. Then he asks me out for lunch? He can't change his mind when he wants to! I will say this again I'm not that desperate. So the answer is NO!
"Yes."
Pathetic. Pathetic. Stupid. Stupid.

I sat laid down on the living room floor, paper and files spread across floor. A bottle of Claret opened and box of pizza uneaten. Downton Abbey blasting on as background noise. These files had everything I needed to to get the divorced finalized. To be free but no...Jessica was right. You give and give to the bureau and get nothing in return. Of course it was my choice to lose the divorce but it was the right thing to do. If it'd stop what Dante was doing, I guess I was willing to do anything.

A jangle of keys and my front made me jump to my feet. My gun was in my room so I was defenceless.
Maybe it's Jake.
Don't be stupid.

"That key is for emergencies dumbass," I rolled my eyes as Ross appeared from behind it. "You could've knocked."
"If I had knocked would you have opened the door?"
"No."