Tom cringed. “Ugh, do you have to?” He couldn’t imagine Gerald’s rage when he found out Tom had taken a deceased’s personal effects home, no matter what the reason was.
“Look, if he gets pissed, you have all week to wait for him to cool off. Later, dude.”
“Bye.”
Tom flinched when the door shut, cursing under his breath to himself.
He should have never taken that dumb watch.
After taking a deep breath, he got back to work on Mr. Lundy, mumbling, “It didn’t even do any good. They already had all their dumb prints or whatever. That’s what I get for trying to help, Mr. Lundy.”
Mr. Lundy didn’t reply, as usual, but Tom liked to think he would have been sympathetic.
He easily lost track of time while he was working, getting up often to walk around Mr. Lundy and view him from different angles. He would always see one small blotch or a bit of pigment out of place and sit back down to fix it. He could easily do this for hours, trying to make it perfect and ensure not a single trace of trauma was visible.
Hours indeed had passed when he heard his phone beep, signaling a text message. He stood up to stretch and look over Mr. Lundy one last time.
Perfect.
After putting away his tools and makeup, he disposed of his gloves to check his phone. He smiled when he saw it was Cypress.
Everything okay?
Yeah, just finished. Be right there, Tom texted back. He washed his hands and wiggled through the crowded hallway, navigating through stretchers and linen bags on his way to the garage. He grinned when he saw Cypress, setting up a tall flower spray. “Hey! I thought you were done?”
“Hey.” Cypress smiled. “Mr. Crosby called and asked me to switch out this white stand for a green one. Had an extra one in the van. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t text it all out. I just wanna get outta here.”
“Wasn’t sure if I was gonna have to wait for you or not,” Cypress said, taking Tom’s hand and pulling him close for a kiss. “We don’t have to leave if you’re not ready.”
“Oh, it’s fine.” Tom shook his head. “Trust me, I could go on for hours.”
“Oh, I know,” Cypress confirmed with a little wink.
“I meant about the makeup. Themakeup.” Tom laughed as his ears burned. “God, let’s go.”
Cypress’s van was parked in the back, and they drove over to Tom’s house, chatting along the way. Being with Cypress again had put Tom in such a good mood, and he loved the simple pleasure of holding his hand.
He didn’t even care about Junior being out there somewhere possibly plotting to kill him.
As long as Tom was with Cypress, he was safe.
Tom updated him on what Mr. Crosby and Aaron had told him about Junior still being missing and his possible future ass-chewing for the watch, but he was able to wrap it all up on a positive note as they pulled into his driveway.
“And since Mr. Crosby thinks I’m recovering from a recent knee replacement, I get a whole week off,” he declared, unbuckling his seatbelt with a snort.
“How does that man get to work every day?” Cypress wondered, hopping out of the car. “I mean, he notices the color of a flower stand, but he…” He had started walking up to Tom’s front door and stopped short, staring.
“Right?” Tom grinned as he started to walk by him to open the door. “Poor guy. He’s always getting so confused, but I really do think the world of him. He’s just so—”
“Tom,” Cypress snapped, grabbing his arm to stop him. “Look.”
“What?” Tom frowned, glancing up at his front door.
It was then he realized he didn’t need his keys because it was already open. There were shards of wood from the frame where the lock had been busted, and the door had been left ajar.
Well, fuck.
