Reporters would be back in the morning, but it looked, for now, like we had one less shit-storm to deal with. As I reached for the door handle my shoulders relaxed. “I don’t know if you’re what Rabbit needs,” Darryl said, gripping my keys on his thigh and staring out the windshield. “And you are?” I said, equally quiet so as not to disturb the subject of our conversation. Darryl rolled his eyes and gave me a look of contempt. “You’re such an asshole sometimes.” “I’ve been advised of that. It’s good to be consistent.” Darryl smirked unexpectedly and dropped the keys into my palm. “I hope you’re what he needs.” “Where do you fit into what he needs?” He looked over his shoulder at Peter and smiled. “I used to be the one who took care of him.” If he was implying that I was the reason things were different, I wasn’t going to apologize. Darryl turned to me once more, focused. “Rabbit’s the rock we cling to when we’re drowning. He needs a mountain to hold him up, not another storm that’ll wear away at him.”
