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I dragged myself to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

Twenty minutes later, I was pulling in front of a small building in a not-so-great neighborhood. The Windsor Castle Apartments.

This place was the furthest thing from a castle I’d ever seen. The units had bars on the windows. The walkway was cracked and bulging, and there was a stained mattress on the curb out front next to a busted TV with rabbit-ear antennas. I threw the car in park and steeled myself for human interaction before I got out. The sun was barely up. Fucking Mike.

I did my best to keep my mood off my face and knocked on door 104. After a moment, Larissa answered. She was in a gray hoodie, no makeup. Her blond hair was in a ponytail, and her blue eyes were bloodshot.

She waited tables at Donna’s, Mike’s mom’s café. I’d seen her there a few times, but she’d never waited on me. I only actually met her once, two months ago for five minutes. It was after a concert I’d been forced to attend. She’d been barefoot and she needed a ride home. It had been between me and Mike.

She chose Mike.

It struck me again how pretty she was. It had struck me that night at the concert too. Me and Mike both.

She blinked at me. “Where’s Mike?”

“He didn’t tell you?” I asked.

“No…”

Aaaand of course he forgot to text her.

“Mike’s got a migraine,” I said. “He asked me if I could take you. I’m Chris. We met that one night.”

“I remember…” she said tentatively.

She chewed her lip, then glanced over her shoulder before coming back to me. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice low. “I can call a rideshare.”

“I was up,” I lied. “I had nothing to do today,” I lied again. “It’s my pleasure. Really.”

Someone came from behind her. A middle-aged woman in a beanie. She stopped when she saw me. “Oh. Where’s Mike, hon?”

I smiled at her around Larissa. “Mike is sick this morning. I’m Chris, his best friend.”

“Chris, this is my mom, Nancy,” Larissa said, still looking uncertain.

“Nice to meet you.” I reached for the duffel bag Nancy was holding. “Let me take that for you.”

“Wow. Such a gentleman,” she said, handing it over, giving her daughter an unsure glance.

Both women looked like they’d been crying.

I didn’t know what kind of surgery Nancy was having. It was none of my business, so I wasn’t going to pry, but this was clearly something very personal taking place this morning and they’d trusted Mike enough to ask him to get them there, and he’d sent a stranger to do it instead. And didn’t even call to let them know—probably because he was passed out.

I was so pissed at him.

“Should we get going?” I asked.

Larissa nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

They followed me out to the car. I put Nancy’s bag in the trunk and opened the doors for them both. Larissa made her mom take the front seat. Her mom smelled like cigarettes.

It was a twenty-minute ride to Royaume Northwestern Hospital. I was thinking it was going to be a quiet one, but then Nancy turned in her seat to look at Larissa. “You know, the Lord gives his toughest battles to his strongest warriors.”

“Mom, stop,” Larissa said.

Nancy faced front again. Then she turned to me. “So how long have you known Mike?”

“Twenty-five years,” I said, getting onto the freeway.