“Cracker?”
“The paranoid drug dealer who aimed the six-shooter out the door.This is his house.”
“You live in a drug dealer’s house.”I lower my hands.
“As if you didn’t notice.”He sighs.“I handle Cracker’s security, and he buys me all this.”He gestures at the room full of expensive tech.
“Are you using drugs?”
“No.”His head snaps up, eyes burning.“I’ve never touched that shit.Not once.Not even when Cracker tried to shove pills down my throat after I got stabbed.”
The image guts me.Jag bleeding out and some crackhead forcing opioids into his mouth.I should’ve been with him, taking care of him.
“You’ve been here all month?In this room?Recovering?”
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t tell me?I would’ve helped you.Instead, you let me think you left.”
“I didn’t leave you, Dove.I watched you.”He gestures toward the monitors.“Every day.Every night.Always with you.”
Of course, he was.He doesn’t crawl through my windows anymore.He crawls through every camera I pass.
I miss the windows.
“What happened?”I point to his wound.
“I lived.”He sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands loosely hanging between them.
That’s it.No details.No who.No why.No explanation for the blade that almost killed him or the enemies that want us both dead.
I wait for more, but he won’t give it.
Not tonight.
Maybe not ever.
He exhales heavily, and the fight drains out of both of us at the same time.
The monitors dim to a blue glow, and the house outside this room sinks into muffled TV noise, clinking pipes, and someone laughing.
“Get some sleep.”Jag stands and pulls the blankets back.
“I’m not tired.”
“Hungry?”
“I ate at work.”
He pulls clean clothes from a crate in the corner, gives me something to wear, and gestures for me to turn around.
With our backs to each other, we change into our sleepwear.I pull on a shirt and flannel pants he grew out of, and I turn to find him wearing gray sweats and a white tank.
I climb into the bed, and the mattress dips as he joins me.
“Tell me about the shop.”He drags the blanket over us.
“You literally watch it through like six angles.”
