He needed vigilance, he needed a flashlight, and he might need a weapon.
Cosmo - Snagged Thread
Cold metal from the car door handle dug into Cosmo’s fingers. As much as he relished the idea of him and his new beloved alone in the kitchen, Cosmo offering Micah a spoon of vodka sauce to taste or – goodness – feeding him a forkful of pasta, he didn’t want Déjà to feel scared and alone either. He spoke into the phone. “Are you going home? Or would you like to have dinner with Micah and me? I’m cooking.”
Déjà hesitated. “I’m invested in this drama now, even though I know I shouldn’t be. But I don’t want to cramp your style.”
“You could never. You amplify it by your mere presence.”
“Save your flirts for Micah.” There was a smile in her voice. “Meet you here.”
Cosmo hung up. If Mom were in town, no doubt she would insist he stay with her for the time being. He had no choice but to head back home, but it was still a huge relief to know he had two people nearby who cared about him and his safety. His relationships with Déjà and Micah weren’t flawless; there would be more arguments and hurt feelings because that was life. But they wouldn’t ever betray his trust the way Royce had.
“Something In My House” hammered from Rye’s apartment. The tangerine string lights twinkled, and candles inside the jack-o’-lanterns on the step wobbled in the breeze. Since Déjà wasn’t at the party, it seemed like things between her and Rye hadn’t worked out, which was terribly sad. They seemed like they would have made a good fit.
Micah came out of his apartment on the floor above, wearing a jacket, a small luggage bag in one hand. When he stopped at the car, Cosmo asked, “What’s in the bag? Rope? A set of knives? Duct tape? We’ll need a shovel too. Zedd’s grave isn’t going to dig itself.”
“Duct tape, yeah. But there’s only one knife. A phone charger.” A flush crawled up Micah’s neck. “Also a couple books. I wasn’t sure what you like. And… my toothbrush.”
Butterflies swarmed in Cosmo’s stomach. His toothbrush? “Dinner, murder,anda sleepover? That’s quite a full night.”
“Does it turn you on to think about me sitting in a chair in the dark, keeping watch while you sleep? Because that’s what I was picturing.”
“Yes, it does.” Though that wasn’t at all what Cosmo had meant by “sleepover.”
“I just want to be prepared in case this is worse than we think and you want me to stay with you. Don’t want you to be alone. Did you call the police yet? I’d suggest you spend the evening in my place, but, well…”
“I’ll call them after I see the note. And you’re coming home with me. Toothbrush and all.” Cosmo climbed into the driver seat. Micah was going overboard by bringing a weapon, but Cosmo wasn’t going to tell him to tone it down. When he slid in, Cosmo said, “Is there really a knife in there? I have knives, you know.”
Poor Micah couldn’t possibly have any blood left in his body with all of it rushing to his face. “It’s my, uh, comfort knife. I keep it taped under my art desk.”
Cosmo pulled out of the parking lot and merged with the evening traffic. “Do you always take it with you when you go somewhere? I’m asking sincerely, not to be judgmental.”
“I doubt it would be a good idea to keep it strapped to my ankle when I’m out getting groceries. No, it stays in my place, and I know Zedd only taped a note to your door, but I’ll feel better with it nearby.”
“Okay.”
Micah pulled at a stray thread on his seatbelt. “It’s weird to have a comfort knife.”
“Since when has weird been a bad thing?” Cosmo flashed him a smile. “I’m going to make penne alla vodka. You like pasta, don’t you?”
“Definitely. Especially if it has a criminal amount of–”
“Cheese?”
“Yeah. I only cook easy stuff for myself: eggs, stir fry vegetables from a bag, canned soup. But as you can see” – Micah patted the modest paunch of his stomach – “if someone offers me carbs or cheese, I take it. Ximena was determined to fatten me up in the months after I came back from the hospital. I probably would have starved without her because I didn’t have the motivation to make anything for myself.”
Cosmo reached over and squeezed Micah’s knee. “I’m glad someone was looking out for you… Do you see Everett often?”
“We talk a lot, but I don’t see him much in person. It’s hard when you’re two thousand miles away from each other.” Micah looked out the window as restaurants and car dealerships drifted by. “He took time off and flew out after the assault to take care of me, but that was the only time he’s been to visit since I’ve moved to Lemon Disco. I know he wanted to stay longer, but he had work obligations. My parents didn’t want me to stay here at all. Wanted me to move back.”
If it took something that big for Everett to get time off work and see Micah then that didn’t bode well for what Other Micah was going through on the future timeline. And what kind of callous asshole did that make Cosmo to not be there for him when he needed it so badly?
“I’m going to cook you so much pasta,” Cosmo said.
Micah chuckled.
They pulled up to Cosmo’s complex. The arc sodium light over the sidewalk was off, shadows and high juniper bushes shrouding the building. Tiny plastic pumpkin lights glowed dimly from someone’s window, but the other apartments were dark. It felt more ominous than it should have, and the knife in Micah’s bag was lending them both comfort now.
