Page 32 of Savage Don

Dark suit. No tie. Black shirt. The same expensive watch. He looks like he has spent the last several hours conducting either a corporate acquisition or an execution.

Possibly both.

He carries a small box. “You're awake,” he says.

“Apparently I continue to survive.”

“I was told the scans were clear.”

“Mostly. My brain remains inside my head, which exceeded expectations.”

He walks closer and puts the box on the table beside me.

“What is that?”

“A phone.”

I stare at him. “I can see that.”

“Then why did you ask?”

I look up at him. “Was that a joke?”

“No.”

“That was absolutely a joke.”

“It was an observation.”

“Oh, you're going to be exhausting.” A small curve forms at one corner of his mouth.

I pick up the box. It’s a new phone. The kind currently displayed behind glass at electronics stores while mine requires occasional encouragement to recognize the charging cable.

“No.”

His expression doesn't change. “No?”

“I cannot accept this.”

“Your phone was destroyed.”

“I'll replace it.”

“You need one now.”

“I can buy a cheap one.”

“You can use that one.”

“I don't even know you.”

“You saved my daughter.”

There it is. The room becomes a little quieter.

I put the box back down. “She was standing in front of a car.”

“I’m aware.”