I slump against the wall, spent, the water washing away the evidence like it never happened.
But it did.
And as my heartbeat slows, the ache doesn't fade—it burrows deeper, quieter, more insistent.
This was supposed to get her out of my system, but all it's done is make the want sharper, more real. Like inevitability.
I shut off the faucet with a twist, standing there dripping, forehead pressed to the tile.
I should've stopped.
Should've kept control.
But now?
Now I crave the real thing even more, and that terrifies me as much as it excites me.
Chapter twelve
Chapter Twelve: Hale
Ipull on clean clothes and move through my apartment on autopilot, every room too quiet, too empty.
Eventually, I sink onto the couch with a beer I barely taste, the dark pressing in around me. I don’t turn on the television. I don’t need to hear anyone else tell me how badly things are going.
Without Station 47, I’m nothing.
As if the universe is done letting me sit in that truth, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
For half a second, I think it might be a call from the station.
Instead, I see her name.
Lila Hart.
I hesitate — just long enough to pretend I have a choice — then answer.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank fuck,” she says without preamble. “Okay, so I didn’t want to fuss and call the actual fire department because I know how busy you guys are, like, all the time, but then I figured maybe you could at least help me with something? Except, now that I’m thinking about it, you’re probably off-duty right now, which means the last thing you want to do is deal with what I’m sure is a total non-emergency—”
“Lila,” I cut in, sitting up straight. “What’s wrong?”
“Ugh, nothing, I’m sure, but I heard you were supposed to take shit like this really seriously, you know?”
“Shit likewhat?”
“My neighbor just called and said my carbon monoxide alarm is going off and I don’t really know what to do about that, but it’s, like, smart of me tonotenter the apartment, right? But it feels too ridiculous to call actual 9-1-1! But what if there’s something wrong in there—I haven’t been home in literal days—and then it kills people?”
“Lila.”
“I’m on my way, only five minutes from my place, and I tried Googling it, but Google just says to evacuate immediately, and I don’t know if that means the whole building has to evacuate, and then it’ll be my fault that everyone’s dinnertime is ruined…”
“Lila.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even know I had that alarm! Which probably sounds stupid to you, but you rent a place and you sign all those random forms and the little thingies are up on the ceiling and you don’t think about it!”
“Lila, for fuck’s sake,” I growl. “Listen to me.”
