Chapter 25
“You’re…still here.”
I blink up from where I’m slowly spinning in the chair, seeing Cecil standing in my slightly wavering vision from so much slow spinning. “Yup, I am still here.” I give him an apologetic smile and sit back, feeling like a child caught drawing on the wall.
Cecil glances down at his old-fashioned, inherited watch, then back up at my face. His brows knit in concerned confusion, and he looks at the door as if maybe it’s disappeared. “I told you that you could go home, remember?” he asks. “About an hour ago, if I recall.”
How do I tell him I don’t want to go home right now?
More than anything, I’d like to tell Amir. But that’s not the kind of relationship this is, and the moment I start thinking of it like one, I know I’ll be in a lot of trouble.
“Sorry, Cecil.” I give him a tentative, stiff smile. “I just started thinking and got lost in it.” It’s not a lie, exactly. After all, my thoughts keep pulling me back to the dreams I’ve been having more and more lately.
The ones where I watch my mother die over and over. But what makes it worse, I have to hear her last words to me every time as well. Like I haven’t thought about them enough in my life.
“I wish it was you instead of her.”
The words twist in my brain like knives, and I’d do anything to never hear them again—spoken or not—including give up my ability to hear forever.
Cecil frowns at me and runs a hand through his greying hair. “I get it. I know things have been a bit strange around here since Andrew’s death.” That’s not exactly the reason, but I’m not about to correct him. It’s close enough, and technically, that is what started all of this.
“I’m sorry you had to go to the station and be interviewed. Adele told me you seemed nervous. She felt bad, I think.” He chuckles in that fatherly way that made me warm up to his dad jokes on the very first day I got to Still Pines.
Even without knowing the first thing about me, he made me feel at ease. Made it seem like I would be welcome here, without ever prying into my past.
I feel a little shard of guilt stab into my chest when I know who killed Andrew. If Cecil knew, surely he’d tell Adele.
Even if what Amir did wasn’t that bad, considering what Andrew was. But still the guilt stays, and I push to my feet, ideas of trying to convince Cecil to let me stay suddenly drying up in my chest.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I ask, and he brightens a little, his smile warm at my change in tone.
“Absolutely. I’ll be here early. It’s Mrs. Elliot’s day to finalize preparations for the funeral.”
Maybe I’ll call in sick. The shard slides deeper into my heart, and I only give him a nod and a sympathetic smile.
Or at least my best attempt at it. “Let me know if you need me to come in early.” God, I hope he doesn’t.
I can’t be here while Andrew’s mother cries and talks about all the great things her son did.
But Cecil assures me he won’t, which gives me the push I need to make my escape into the cloudy afternoon instead of staring at him with what I’m sure is a confusingly guilty expression on my face.
The drive back is uneventful, though I sit in my car in the back parking lot of Coffee Crest just to stare at my phone. What if I told him? Would he care? He says he loves the ways I’m broken, but calling him now—a few days after having easily the best, most intense sex of my life—would be…
Well, I’m not sure what it would be. Needy? Dramatic?
Too much?
Something twists in my gut at the thought of being too much. Even here and now, I can’t stomach it. Even with a murderer who told me he has in fact killed before.
“Fuck it,” I sigh, shoving my phone back into the pocket of my leggings. I’ve dealt with my problems for twenty-four years, almost on the dot. I can do it again.
Barking catches my attention and my heart suddenly flutters with surprised hope. I know that bark. And sure enough, I know the black German Shepherd who charges me, only to stop at my legs, panting, to lick at my fingers in greeting.
“Umbra!” I gasp happily, finally able to tell the two of them apart by the slight amount of silver-white fur she has on one hip.
“Hi pretty girl! Who’s my gorgeous girl?
” Scratching her ears, I notice that there’s a leash trailing behind her, and she’s alone.
“Where’s Noctis, huh?” I ask, not seeing any sign of him.
My heart lurches in my chest, and alarm jolts through me.
Is he lost? Did she get away from Amir somehow, and—
Someone screams in exasperation, rather than alarm. Another dog rounds the corner, and before I can even reach a hand up, Noctis is pressing into me and Umbra, sniffing my hands and arms like there’s something tasty on them instead of just chemicals.
Hestia rounds the corner a second later, the panic in her eyes fading when she sees me.
“Oh, thank God,” she gasps, sagging against the wall.
“Holy shit, I thought they were going to run away. Fuck.” She pants, her hand going through her hair.
“I love Amir, and I swear I love them. But I can’t do this today like I thought I could.
There’s overstock here, and the truck came late, and—”
“I can watch them.” The offer is out of my mouth before I can think to say otherwise.
“If Amir is okay with it. Want me to text him?” The irony of my willingness to text him when I can do something for him, but not when I could really use his company or even his conversation to help me, is not lost on me.
“Are you sure? I mean, that would be so incredibly helpful. You can take them up to the apartment if you want. I don’t care. I know they aren’t gonna shit everywhere.” She looks at me with hope in her eyes. “You sure you don’t mind? I’ll make you a coffee for your way up.”
“I really, really do not mind,” I assure her, my phone already in my hand.
Hestia needs a break from the dogs. Mind if I watch them?
The message is fired off before I can consider that it sounds way too forward and personal. But thankfully, before I can second-guess myself, his reply comes in.
Do you need me to come get them?
No. I don’t even hesitate. No, I really like them. I don’t mind if you don’t.
I don’t mind. Thank you, my little mortician.
The term of affection seems so natural at the end of his message, and I feel a small shiver go through me. The private endearment warms me up no matter how cold the abyss in my head feels.
When I’m back inside, Hestia stops me just long enough to make my drink. “Do you like pumpkin spice?” she asks offhandedly. “I just got it in for the season.”
“Of course I do. Look at me,” I joke, gesturing down at my all-black clothing. “I’m that kind of stereotypical sad girl.”
“I had no idea.” Hestia’s teasing strikes me as familiar, affectionate…
and something I haven’t had from someone around my age in a long time.
She moves to put a few pumps of pumpkin spice in my latte, then hands it off to me with a flourish of pumpkin-colored cold foam on top.
“Let me know what you think. The cold foam is new from the company I get it from.”
I take a sip as the dogs hang out at my sides, never once pulling or acting like they want to topple the natural order of Coffee Crest. I lift my brows at the hit of nutmeg and spice on my tongue. “Oh. That’s so good, Hestia. It’s spicier than I expected? But in a really good way.”
“Yeah?”
I nod and head to the door leading to the stairs. “Thank you! And I’ll text Amir about picking them up or whatever. Just, uh, I guess if I don’t come down and they don’t come down for a few days, maybe assume I died and they’re eating me?”
“In which case I will call Amir to clean you up. No offense, but I’m too squeamish for that.” She makes a face and shudders, her look causing a grin to curve up over my lips.
“Fair.” I lead both dogs up the stairs, opening the door to my apartment with a little flick of my hand.
“Okay, so. House rules.” I unclip their leashes and coil both on the table, watching the dogs wander the studio apartment.
“Don’t break anything or chew anything beyond repair.
Don’t eat me, because I feel like that wouldn’t be very comfortable for you in the end.
I probably taste gross because of all the meds, anyway.
But other than that…” I walk over to my bed, sitting down and patting it.
Both dogs hop up on it before I can question if Amir lets them on the bed, and Noctis sprawls over the foot, while Umbra throws herself onto a pillow with a sigh like a single mom with two jobs.
“Yeah, life is so hard, huh?” I sigh, reaching out to scratch behind her soft, long-furred ears. “I get it. You have it harder than any of us.” Turning on the TV, I navigate to my streaming services until I end up with The Golden Palace starting on the screen.
Noctis sneezes, and it’s too opportune for me not to snort.
“Yeah, I get it. Absolutely awful sequel. But I gotta take a break from the originals or else I’m going to start telling people to ‘picture it’ and addressing myself as a southern belle.
” As if in response, Noctis kicks out his back legs until his paws hang off the bed.
With the episode holding my attention, I only belatedly remember I really have to figure out what this number that’s been calling me is.
Or at the very least figure out if it’s truly spam.
My phone doesn’t say so, and from what I’ve discovered online, it doesn’t come back to any questionable activity.
Instead, it keeps coming back to a law office in Michigan.
Not that I have any reason to be getting calls by any law office.
I dial the number again, and when the call picks up, I get the same rush of anxiety I always do when I have to talk to a stranger over the phone. Like maybe this time, I’ve called the devil, and I’ll get murdered through the phone somehow.
There’s no other explanation for how my nervous system lights up over a phone call, I figure.
“Hello? Michaels and Waters Law Office. How can I direct your call?” The woman sounds pleasant and professional, and the law office part catches me off guard.
“Um… I think maybe I have the wrong number,” I admit, pulling my knee to my chest. “I’ve been getting calls from this number for about a week now? I’m trying to figure out why.”
“Can I get your name, ma’am?”
“Nell—Eleanor Collins,” I clarify.
“Let’s see…Yes, okay. You’re on Mr. Waters’ list to be contacted. He is unfortunately gone for the next three days. Can I have him call you when he gets back?”
“Uh, sure. Can you at least tell me what it’s about?”
“No, I’m so sorry. I don’t have that kind of information. But I’ll let him know you called. Can I help you with anything else?”
She hasn’t really helped me with anything. But I give her a polite no, and return her sentiments of having a good rest of my day, before tossing my phone on the nightstand. If it’s important, someone will call me. If it’s not, then maybe this is the universe telling me to just let it go.
Either way, I’d much rather watch The Golden Palace and hang out with Amir’s dogs than worry about it.
“What do you think?” I ask Umbra, turning to stroke along her cheek as she all but snores on my pillow.
The two of them have lifted my mood considerably from what it was.
And have made this place much less of a desolate space.
“Should we make some Hamburger Helper? Think your dad will just love for you guys to have some for dinner?”
Her tail thumps against the bed and I kiss her nose, only for her to paw at my face and give a soft, playful woof.
My grin widens. “Yeah, I think so too. And then if you have the stress squirts from it, it’s something your dad will have to deal with.
Not me.” Another kiss on her nose triggers the two of them to break into the zoomies, their claws clicking across my hardwood floor as they bounce around, using my bed as a springboard and sometimes me as a trampoline.
Not that I mind.
All I can think about is how much I wish they could stay, and how much I wish I had a four-legged friend like this.
Maybe if I ask really nicely, Hestia will let me get a dog.
Or at the very least, a fish.