Chapter Nine
Mission Briefs, Masked Feelings, and Mandatory Meals
Elliot
I wake up sweating in the middle of the night again. That’s the fourth time in the last week. I breathe slowly in, then out. In and out. Until my heart decides it’s okay not to drill a hole in my rib cage.
I sigh. I love to sleep. Sleep is the only time I don’t have to deal with people. People are the worst. But here I am wide awake because I couldn’t save my best friend from a psychopath who decided it wasn’t enough to use his power against grown adults, he had to go for kids, too.
I sigh again. It’s already turning out to be one of those days. When I feel calm enough to get up, I trudge to the bathroom. I look in the mirror. Bloodshot watery eyes. Red blotched face. Sweat-drenched, matted dark hair.
A quick face wash can’t fix this mess. I need to wash away this weakness, my naiveness. A long, punishingly hot shower it is.
Water gliding over my skin finally makes me feel human again. A lot less tired. I stay under the stream until it gets warm, then cold. Just the jolt I needed to snap my brain out of the fugue state it’s been slipping into lately.
Once I’m done, I get a cup of coffee darker than my soul and open my ‘serious shit’ laptop. I’ve been keeping it at home lately since I suddenly have a lot of spare time without pesky sleep getting in the way.
I click on the file on our next target. Now that Sam is almost sure the drug dealer killed the man found in the forest, it’s my turn to start the on-foot investigation.
The first step is to observe and confirm that the guy really is a werewolf. You can only be sure to a certain extent with just pictures and a few pieces of video footage. I check my schedule for tomorrow. I can swing by the club he hangs out at after work.
Now that I’m entirely sure Nicholas suspects nothing, there’s no reason to delay the case.
If I could describe our whole date in one word, it would be ‘awkward’ and not ‘interrogatory’. Captain Muscles was curious, but that seemed more like a work hazard than targeted suspicion.
Besides, if he suspected anything, wouldn’t he have jumped at the chance to come to my place? He could have theoretically gotten a lot more information that way. Only in theory, though, because I keep my house clean. The best forensic and canine teams won’t find anything incriminating here.
Even the ‘serious shit’ information on this laptop is hidden behind a ton of encryption.
It’ll appear to be a normal personal-use laptop to everyone else.
Not even a heavily used one. Sam has even added some really badly written poetry and some Teen Wolf fanfiction to really sell it.
I think it’s a bit too on the nose. Not that anyone ever asks me.
He keeps adding to it. And after a while, I gave up on trying to get a handle on the situation.
So, the point is, the guy was probably just trying something and didn’t feel it. That’s what first dates are for, right? Although it is suspicious that he didn’t want to come over after. The man started the whole thing, and then he just wasn’t interested? What was up with that?
I mean, I wasn’t trying to be Mr. Perfect at the dinner, but he must have known that about me already. The guy is a detective, for fuck’s sake. He had to know I would not be giggling at his jokes and lapping up all the cop stories like Ashley, which still weirds me, not gonna lie.
Ugh, I need to put this behind me and maybe find an actual fuck buddy to help me get out of my head. I don’t need a hulking man with blinding smiles for that. Any person with the right anatomy would do. And maybe a decent personality that doesn’t annoy me every second.
I nod to myself. That’s why I was nervous about the date.
It had nothing to do with Nicholas. I just need someone.
Anyone. To help me blow off steam every once in a while.
Because my life is fucking stressful. And of course, there was the whole ‘he could lock me up for life and not in a fun way’ thing.
I need to find someone to get laid on the regular. Then the stupid date would not matter, not that it matters now.
That decided, I slam the laptop shut and change into gym shorts. I can start letting out some of this frustration by beating up a punching bag in a controlled environment.
I rush out the door, promising myself I’ll download a dating app soon.
***
Two hours in the gym was enough to make me feel fresh and ready to deal with the world. Okay, that’s a stretch. I’m ready to resign to whatever the world has to throw at me today. Or more precisely, Ashley has to throw at me today.
I miss the days when I went to the gym late at night. It was just as empty as it was this early in the morning, but I loathe being considered an early bird. A shiver down my spine. I despise it. But my new fun impromptu wake-up calls have me tired and ready to conk out by eleven most days.
When I walk into the clinic, Ashley looks up at me and raises an eyebrow. At least she’s not smiling again. Her acknowledging my presence for anything other than work was spooky enough.
“What?” I snap. Clearly, two hours weren’t enough for this shit.
Her eyes narrow. “How was the date on Friday?” Her voice is surly but demanding.
“And why the hell do you care about that?”
That makes her realize she forgot to hide that she cares, her gaze lowering to her hands under the desk. Amateurs. “Nick seemed great for you,” she mutters.
I sigh, even though I want to snap at her again.
Deep down, Ashley is a nice, sweet person, and it wouldn’t be fair of me to make her hate the world.
She needs to get there all on her own. “It was good. But we won’t be seeing each other again,” I say.
“At least not that way,” I correct, remembering our mutual friends and Mickey.
But of course, Nicholas can take Mickey to another vet. There isn’t any shortage of them in the city. He can blabber and smile at them instead of coming here and annoying me.
Better yet, I’ll refer him to someone else myself.
I know one who’d be perfect for Nicholas.
She might be a bit old for his taste and married with grandkids.
She insists on showing their pictures to everyone she meets, apparently, because she showed them to me.
My grunts did nothing to deter her. She’s stinkingly nice.
And Mickey needs someone experienced to take care of him.
“What did you do?” Ashley glares up at me again.
“Why would you automatically assume I did something?” I snap this time.
“Because it’s you? You were mean, weren’t you? He’s soft, he won’t be able to take it,” she insists.
“He’s not soft,” I say automatically. Someone soft wouldn’t have laughed off my jabs.
She tilts her head. “What did he do then?”
“No one did anything. It was a casual date, and there won’t be a second. It’s not that unusual,” I stress.
“Oh my god, you’re upset about this,” she smiles.
“No, I’m not.”
Her eyes go wide, like I’m a petri dish under her microscope and she’s just made a thrilling discovery.
“Oh, this is freaky. You’re not even faking it.
I know what your fake emotions look like.
And your real ones, too. Mostly because the real ones are always targeted toward animals. Did Nick break you?”
I groan. “Don’t you have work? I’m still waiting on the first file,” I throw over my shoulder, marching to my office.
“Coming right up. Will you also need sugar in your coffee today, you know, because you’re getting soft?” I take it all back, the girl is mean.
I don’t grace that with a response. I’m tired because of a lack of sleep, frustrated by my insubordinate employee, and preemptively annoyed by future client interactions.
What I’m definitely not is upset. Why would I be upset?
It was one date. I agreed only because I wanted to be sure he’s not onto me.
I had no interest in the guy. I never have.
In fact, I thought he’s straight, and that hadn’t bothered me one bit.
Sure, it was a blow to my ego, but that passed right away after I realized it would have been a disaster to pursue this.
Even if it had been a one-time thing, we couldn’t completely avoid each other.
Not without me avoiding Oliver, too. That wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but I kinda liked the guy, and I also need to make sure he was alright around all the werewolves he hung out with on the regular.
And if we agreed to some sort of prolonged arrangement, I’d be exposing myself to extra scrutiny at best and lifetime imprisonment at worst. Even if he doesn’t find anything, which he wouldn’t, I’ll have to watch my every step, lie constantly, and be on my toes at all times.
Besides, Nicholas didn’t seem like someone who’d be good at a casual thing.
I don’t really have any evidence to prove it because I’ve only met one of his girlfriends that one time, and then she was never mentioned again.
But the fact that he introduced her as ‘girlfriend’ suggests he likes being in relationships.
And people who want relationships always suck at keeping things casual.
The point is, no, I’m not upset. Thank you very much.
Ashley knocks the door lightly and walks in with her tab. “I’ve sent you all the patient files for today. Mrs. Morrison will be in with her parrot in twenty minutes.”
I nod, checking the files on my tab.
She doesn’t leave, so I finally look up. “What?”
“I know it’s a touchy subject, but I wanted to say sorry. It was rude of me to discount your feelings,” she mocks.
I grab the nearest object with every intention of throwing it at her, but she darts out the door, giggling loudly. Ugh, kids.
Reminding myself I don’t murder innocent humans, I get back to my work.
***
The day turned out to be unexpectedly productive, even with Ashley marking herself as one of the most annoying elements. Never thought I’d miss the surly teenage goth version of her.