I’m not injured, but I feel a faint pulse in the back of my head and right shoulder. Good to know, I’ll have that to deal with once the adrenaline wears off.
Once I’m back in my room, I slam the door behind me and slump against it.
“I’m back. I’ll call you after disposing of everything,” I tell Sam and disconnect the call before he can answer. We bothknow the drill. He’ll clear out any footage that might have captured my face. All my existence will be erased once I’m out of here, which will be soon. Not that they’re ever going to investigate this case. There’s no reason to. But you can never be too careful.
This is not the time to process what happened in there.Not yet.
I empty the bottles in the sink, then give them a thorough wash before throwing them out. I clear out the extra medicine vials and crush the bottles before wrapping them in tissue paper. I’ll throw them out somewhere on my way to the airport.
Sam texts me fifteen minutes later with information about my flight in four hours.
Might as well get a lead on it and wait at the airport. I doubt I’ll be able to move again if I take a breather right now.
***
Although I took a shower back at the hotel before leaving for the airport, I make a beeline to the bathroom as soon as I reach home to wash off Arizona, Jared, and anything that happened in Jared’s room.
After scrubbing myself raw, I feel relaxed and sane.
It was a fluke, whatever happened there. We’ve been doing this for over five years now, and I’ve never frozen before. Sure, I was a bit snappy in the last mission, but that was because of the sleeplessness.
I was perfectly well rested this time. At least I was when I left California. Nicholas had made it a habit of coming over, as if the first reluctant invitation was valid for every visit.
I was going to protest, I really was, but turns out getting fucked within an inch of your life against the wall, then in the shower, makes you tired enough to get a full night of sleep. Once I made the connection, it would have been stupid of me to stop it. Also, the convenient orgasms are part of the appeal, too.
The biggest problem was Nicholas's habit of staying over. But honestly, I’ve become too accustomed to waking up to thesmell of a delicious breakfast to take a firm stand on the issue.
Besides, he comes in late after walking Mickey or collecting him from wherever he spent the day, and leaves early to feed him. So, I don’t really have anything to complain about.
By the time I’m ready to go to bed to sleep it all off, I’ve decided I don’t even need to think about what happened during the mission at all. It was another success. The serial killer is gone. That’s all that we need to take from the whole thing.
My phone buzzes as soon as I lie down. Sam.
“We need to talk about what happened in there,” he starts.
DamnitNo, wait, this could still be salvaged. “All we need to take from this is that we were successful,” I tell him decisively.
“Yeah, that’snotall we’re taking. We’re going to talk about how you froze there for a few seconds. Seconds that could have led to something far worse than minor injuries,” he says firmly.
I blow out a furious breath. “I killed him. He’s gone. Why does it even matter?”
“Because the price could have been too high and I don’t think I’m willing to pay it,” he snaps.
I still. All my anger drains out of me. “I’m alright, Sam. I always get out no matter the situation, you know that,” I say softly.
“You used to. That has changed, hasn’t it? Somewhere along the way, you started leaving some part of you behind with the bodies. Please let’s not pretend we both don’t know that,” he says, his voice cracking a bit.
I swallow the pressure building behind my eyes. “Sam, I’m fine,” is all I can say to that. I don’t think I’m ready to acknowledge what he’s saying. And not just because he’s wrong,so wrong. I was broken way before I started killing. There weren’t enough parts left to spare.
He sighs. “Okay, you’re fine.I’mnot, though. If something happened toyou in there— Elliot, I know you don’t believe me, and that’s okay, but I can’t lose you. I just… can’t.”
“And you won’t,” I assure him.
“That’s right. We did this because you didn’t let it affect you. It was like one of your surgeries, go in and out. No drama, no impulsiveness. But things have changed. They’ve been changing for a while, I was just too wrapped up in it—”
“I—”
“No, Elliot, I was, so shut up.” He doesn’t let me argue. “But I see it all clearly now. We can’t continue this. Not at the cost of you losing yourself,” he declares.
