“Not everyone is like your foster parents,” he says.
My hand freezes mid-bite. We don’t mention them. And he’s usually so good at following that rule, too.
“I don’t want to talk about them,” I declare.
Nick’s eyes bore into mine, challenging. “Well, you’re clearly still letting them tell you what you can and can’t do,” he says. “I know they made you think you’re not great, that you’re not enough. But Matt, you are. You’re that and so much more.”
I feel a sting in my eyes, and I swallow hard. “They weren’t bad people, Nick,” I finally say when I’m sure my voice won’t shake. “They took care of me. They loved me. At one point, we were talking about adoption.” My breathing gets heavier. “They werenotbad people.”
Nick nods but doesn’t let it go. “I know. But they weren't good people either. You don't behave the way they did with a child. Would you ever do that to a twelve-year-old?”
“Of course not. But I can't speak for them. Their experience was real. Their life became difficult after the Bureau stormed into it,” I defend.
“Well, it didn't have to. They still had everything.”
“You don't get it. They had no choice.” I breathe out, my eyes closing. “I can't have Oliver hate me,” I whisper.
But Nick hears me. Of course, he does. I feel numb, like my emotions just decided to give up on me all at once. Nick looks at me for a few seconds, like he’s thinking of a good argument. But he must see the resistance on my face because he lets it go.
“So, what can I expect at this Christmas thing?” he asks after a few minutes, going back to eating.
A smile stretches across my face. “Oliver has a list of recipes he's going to try.”
“Should I be worried?” he asks, genuinely concerned.
“He's a great cook.”
“Of course, he is. Oliver is perfect,” he swoons.
I roll my eyes.
On the way back to Nick’s place, we call Marcus to check if he has an update on the bodies.
“You know I’ve got a whole other job, too?” Marcus says as soon as he picks up.
“Well, humans are involved in this one, so this is your only job right now,” I argue.
“Yeah, yeah. So, you were right. The chemicals in the bodies match the two from your apartment building. There is definitely something big at play here. I’m still figuring out what these drugs do, but the cocktail seems to be the same. Also, they have injuries beneath their fingernails, too.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” Nick pinches his nose.
“I know. This is bad, guys. And now the humans are involved,” Marcus says, worried.
“The protocol stays. Share everything with everyone unless it outrightly reveals anything.” Nick tiredly recites.
“Yeah, and I’ll update you guys on the chemicals soon," Marcus responds before disconnecting the call.
“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?” I ask.
Nick sighs hard before I even finish my sentence.
I drop him off and drive to my apartment.
When I walk back into the building, I climb the steps slowly, convincing myself to go straight back to my place.
By the fifth floor, I know it’s a lost battle. When I stand between my and Oliver's door, my feet take me to the left, and I’m knocking.
He opens a few seconds later, looking all soft and groggy like he just woke up. His eyes, less red and tired than the last time I saw him, go wide the second he spots me. A smile blooms on his face.
