My shoulders drop. I didn’t even realize how tightly I was holding them. But no, wecan’tstop. I don’t even know who I am if I’m not doing this. I don’t want to be the scared little Elliot I was when we started our training all those years ago. We can’t stop.Ican’t stop.
“No,” I plead. “We can’t. Sam, there are people who need our help. We can’t turn our backs now,” I insist.
“Let’s think about it, okay? We can talk about this again. You need to recover from your injuries anyway,” he says, then sniffs. I know I’m being handled right now, but I’m too tired to argue. Besides, when Sam gets like this, there’s no point continuing the conversation. Doesn’t matter whether it’s the optimal size of the television inmyhouse or my entire identity.
“Okay.”
“Okay. Get some rest and text me tomorrow morning. No disappearing this time.Elliot, I mean it,” he stresses.
“Yeah, yeah,” I nod.
We disconnect the call after he updates me about how they found Jared’s body soon after I left, and they’re on their way to closing the case as a natural death.
I fall back on the bed, hoping my mind will decide to try something new and shut up long enough for me to fall asleep.
No such luck. I check my phone again after tossing and turning for half an hour.
My thumb lands on Nicholas’s last text from earlier in theday, right before Sam gave the go-ahead. It feels years away, not just a few hours.
Nicholas’s love of texting has gone down over the last few weeks, probably because he’s been spending all his free time driving to my clinic or my house. And he’s gone back to spelling like a teenager.
This text is a picture of a brand logo followed by a question.Ok for micky?
I decide to reply now. What else am I doing?
Me: I have samples at home if Mickey wants to decide for himself.
His reply is immediate.
Nicholas Harper: U back?
Nicholas Harper: Will b thr in a few
It’s too late for him to come over. But I guess I can manage if I’m getting some quality Mickey time out of it.
Chapter Twenty Two
Sleepovers and Serious Decisions
Elliot
Mickey jumps on me as soon as I open the door.
“I swear he grew out of that. He doesn’t do that withanyoneelse,” Nicholas complains. “Mickey,down,” he says sternly, stepping in and closing the door behind him.
Mickey hesitates, but then goes back on all fours, his tongue hanging out. I smile at him and give him all the scratches. “It’s okay,” I wink at him. When I look up at Nicholas, he’s staring at me, standing very, very still. My face goes back to a frown.
“My prettiness got your tongue tied?” I tease him.
He blinks twice and awkwardly laughs. “No, just surprised your mouth went up that way,” he says, but unconvincingly.
Then I notice the giant dog bed he’s carrying in his hand. “Is Mickey planning to move in?” Hearing his name, Mickey butts his head against my hand until I give him some more scratches.
Nicholas laughs. “I got it from Sloan’s when I picked him up. She’s got like five of them,” he says.
He unclips Mickey’s leash and walks inside like he owns the place. Then again, Nicholas rarely ever looks like he doesn’t belong.
He turns and walks backwards. “I can keep it here?” He lays down the bed beside one of the chairs in the living room.
