14. Harper #2
I think about it for a second while my eyes run over him, stopping on the spot where I know his Grim Reaper tattoo is safely hidden.
“I think maybe you’re more of a monster than I imagined.
Last time I checked, the Melnikovs don’t just give out that tattoo to anyone who wants it.
I’m pretty sure you have to earn it. What did you do to earn yours, Ev? ”
As if I hadn’t asked a question at all, he turns to leave while saying, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Watson ate an entire bowl of food, so he’ll probably need to go out soon.”
“Um, okay,” I manage to say, the whole moment suddenly feeling too surreal to process. It’s another interaction that makes me feel like we’re an old married couple instead of what we actually are—a disaster just waiting to happen.
Hearing his car start right below me only adds to the already out-of-whack feeling. I’m not sure I’d ever get used to having a garage in the house. I have to admit it’s designed flawlessly so there’s plenty of airflow and you never get a whiff of exhaust.
I sit back down next to Watson and mindlessly start to pet him, seeking comfort from the one thing that’s a constant in my life. As long as I have my dog, I can handle anything.
Looking around the room, I say, “Well, looks like we’ve stepped up in the world, boy. At least for a little bit.”
He looks back at me and kicks a long leg out, giving me better access to his stomach.
“I say we enjoy it while we can. Try not to poop on anything nice outside, though. I saw some exotic-looking plants out there that probably cost a fortune. Have your fun, but don’t forget my bank account balance is nowhere near Ev’s level.”
The offended look he gives me has me quickly backtracking. “I didn’t mean you were going to. I just thought I should throw that out there just in case you were feeling a little rebellious.”
Unsure what to do with myself, I grab the remote and mindlessly scroll through the different channels.
It’s weird to not be able to work. I always work.
Even on my days off, I still work for at least a little bit.
It’s a compulsion at this point, and Ev’s taken it from me so even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.
I can’t write an article about something I can’t investigate.
I’m going to have to wait for Ev to get home and tell me what’s going on.
It’s both infuriating and liberating, and I can’t decide which irritates me more right now.
While I struggle with the decision, I watch an old episode of a comfort show and pet Watson.
After three more episodes, I finally get my ass up and shower.
The day passes by slower than I thought possible, and by the time I hear the carriage doors open and Ev’s car pull in, I’m so desperate for human interaction that I hop up and run to the stairs.
“You’re late,” I holler down to him as soon as he gets out.
He looks up at me, not seeming bothered or surprised to find me leaning over the rail and scowling at him.
“Did I give a time?” he asks, and the casual way he says it makes me want to run down there and punch him. He’s just come back from a day of work, of talking to and seeing people and getting shit done, and it immediately tips my already bad mood into a full-on shitty one.
“It’s nine o’clock,” I tell him as he slowly starts to climb the stairs. “You said you’d try to be home early. I have to send something to my boss, Ev. No one has heard from me all day.”
“I did try,” he says, and when he reaches the top and is only a couple of feet away from me, I notice the tired look in his eyes and the tightness in his jaw and shoulders.
He looks exhausted and stressed and worried, and when I feel a twinge of sympathy, I quickly stifle it so it doesn’t have a chance to spark to life.
Watson, the traitorous cutie that he is, trots over and nudges Ev’s hand with his nose, demanding some love and looking way too comfortable around the man who he’s obviously forgotten is our jailer.
Or maybe Watson has just decided he’d rather stay locked up here than return to the dump of an apartment he shares with me.
I wince at the twinge of pain that hits my heart at the thought of being passed over so easily by the dog I love more than anything in this world and glare up at Ev.
I hold my hand out. “Can you please give me my phone so I can send some messages so I don’t get fired?”
He sighs, pets Watson, and then walks past me, dropping his briefcase in the nearest chair before walking into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
I wait while he drinks the whole thing, but when he starts to look around for something to eat, I lose my patience and say, “Ev, you’re going to get me fired. That was not part of the deal.”
“You won’t get fired,” he says, reaching into his pocket to grab my phone before sliding it across the island. “But your boss is pissed. And so is Jace.” He raises a brow and asks, “Friend of yours?”
I grab my phone and say, “Yes, and a coworker.”
While I read the long string of messages from Jace and Arthur, I groan and slump into the nearest stool while I quickly type out a response.
I’d already decided on saying I was sick all day but feeling well enough to work and that I was worried about still being contagious so I’d be doing most of my work out of the office.
It’s not unusual for me to do that anyway, and to soften things, I lie on the assumption that Ev is about to tell me something good and say that I’m almost done with my article and I’ll be emailing it to Arthur shortly.
When Ev reads it, he looks over the phone at me and says, “Presumptuous.”
“Accurate,” I correct. “That was our deal. I can’t go out there and investigate, so you have to be my eyes and ears.”
He does something on his own phone before sending off my messages and then returning to his hunt for food. Settling on leftover pizza, he grabs the box from the fridge and asks, “Have you eaten supper yet?”
When I shake my head, he gets two plates down and starts to load them up, even remembering to scoop out extra marinara sauce on mine.
“So how was your day?” I ask while he heats up the plates.
“My cousin is still in jail,” he says, like that should be answer enough.
“You can’t expect to get him out this quickly. Even if he didn’t do it.”
“He didn’t,” he says, interrupting me.
I ignore him and continue. “It’s going to take months, probably way longer, before it even goes to trial. There’s no way you don’t realize that.”
I watch him as he tries to ignore what I’ve said, busying himself with getting us a couple of drinks, because apparently we’re using alcohol to get through this.
When he still doesn’t say anything, it suddenly becomes clear.
Leaning back, I let my mouth drop open and say, “Holy shit. You’re not planning on taking this to trial, are you? ”
He takes a drink before answering. “Not if I can help it. If I can prove he didn’t do it, it’ll get dismissed, and he can go back to his wife and daughters where he belongs.” He takes another drink before adding. “He doesn’t do too well without them.”
I take the plate he offers me and grab the salt grinder. He looks appalled as he watches me.
“You don’t think there’s enough sodium in that as is?”
I meet his eyes and give the grinder another twist. “No, I don’t.”
“We’re eating something healthier tomorrow night,” he declares.
“Whatever you say. Stop stalling and tell me what happened today. I need to send my boss something before I can go to bed tonight.”
While Ev talks, telling me the basic information I would’ve gathered on my own today had I been free to do so, I eat my pizza and take a few notes on the pad of paper I have next to me.
“Have you gotten discovery yet?” I ask.
He gives me a small smirk of a grin. “You wouldn’t know that on your own, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Oh come on. I won’t write about it. You’ll know if I do since you’re dead-set on checking everything like an overbearing parent.”
Grabbing his glass, he leans back in his barstool and thinks while he takes a long drink. “All I got today were the crime scene photos and the police reports.”
“Cheery,” I say. “I bet that was unpleasant to see.”
“They believe they have the right person, and they’re determined to not let Sasha slip through their fingers.
Even if there are holes in the investigation, they’re too obsessed with the idea of catching a Melnikov to see reason.
Hell, even if they knew for a fact he didn’t do it, they still wouldn’t say shit about it. ”
“Probably not,” I agree. “It’s going to take some serious evidence to get this case thrown out.”
Ev looks every bit like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I have the insane urge to go over and make him feel better, to offer a hug or a back rub or maybe even grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the couch so I can really help him relax and forget about things for a while.
When I realize I’m staring, I force my eyes away and finish off the last of my pizza.
“I’m going to hurry up and write something my boss can put on the site. I’ll give it to you so you can inspect it as soon as I’m done.”
“Fine.” He stands and puts our plates in the sink. “I’m going to get changed.”
While he heads to his bedroom, the one I poked around in while I was debating taking a bath, I hurry up and write a short article that will at least keep my name visible and show my boss and everyone else I’m still here and working.
When Ev comes back, he’s in black joggers and a grey T-shirt, showing off the sculpted, tattooed arms that are usually always covered.
He notices me staring this time and says, “No point in hiding it. I might as well be comfortable.”