Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
Ghost
You know how many times this little pipgeek almost died this week?
Go ahead, guess.
Four. And that didn’t even count the perv I caught eyeing him a little too long. He probably had other things besides murder on his mind, but I went ahead and vetoed that too.
Listen, I might have told him to stop looking for me, but I never said I’d stop watching him. I already told you I was nosy. And it’s a good thing I didn’t, because if I had he’d be dead. Worm food. No respawns available.
I had no intention of making my presence known, but this little pip was clearly born without a survival instinct, and his ears just hung out on his head for decoration because he clearly couldn’t hear. I swear he walked around just asking for annihilation.
And then I realized he was homeless.
Homeless.
I watched him crawl into a cardboard box.
I was a bad dude, definitely of the variety with a one-way ticket into hell. The only time I came out of the shadows was when I had someone to kill. You could liken me to a grim reaper except I didn’t work for Satan. I worked for the government.
Which, honestly, was pretty much the same thing.
Probably why spending all of eternity in hell didn’t scare me.
Point is I’d seen things. Done things. There were no dark corners in my mind because all of it was black. But even a man like me had his limits, and apparently, turning away from a sick, homeless pipgeek was mine.
I’d fully intended to drop him at a motel like before and disappear like smoke.
But now there was the matter of a name. My name.
Who was this man, and what game was he playing? I wasn’t letting him out of my sight until my suspicions were sated. So now he was currently in a motel room, shivering under a stack of blankets while a fever burned him from the inside out.
The moment I stepped out of the bathroom, my eyes swept over the parts of him I could see.
His face was flushed and hair matted against his forehead with sweat.
Setting the ice bucket on the nightstand, I submerged a small towel in the water and squeezed.
The soft fall of water, almost tinkling, filled the quiet room.
Leaning over him, I swiped at his forehead and cheeks, attempting to soothe the overheated skin while trying to ignore the soft whimpers escaping his lips with every careful stroke.
Just like that first night when I cleaned up his injuries, his body rotated toward mine like a plant seeking the sun.
The second I brought him in the door, I’d managed to get some meds into him, which was nearly an hour ago.
It bothered me that he was still burning up.
Shouldn’t the meds have kicked in already?
The longer he went without improvement, the more I regretted doing what he’d asked and avoiding the hospital.
“If you aren’t awake soon, you’re going,” I declared, draping the towel over his forehead.
Another little helpless sound left him. “Water,” he croaked.
I grabbed the white ceramic mug off the nightstand, but when he made no move to open his eyes and sit up, I slid my arm under his shoulders and lifted him enough to put the mug to his lips.
“Drink,” I instructed.
After a few sips, he dropped back against my arm as if he’d just run a marathon.
“I’ve seen mice drink more than that,” I criticized.
“Hurts,” he mumbled, turning his face toward my chest.
The mug thunked against the nightstand, and I lowered him against the pillow.
Before I could pull away completely, he caught my hand. “Stay.”
I glanced at his fingers clinging to mine.
He’s playing you, the voice inside me warned. Trying to be all cute to throw you off.
“Please?” he pleaded.
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Slowly, I lowered onto the edge of the mattress, the bed dipping beneath my weight. Before I even had my back against the headboard, he was dragging himself into my lap, draping his upper body across my legs, and laying his cheek on my thigh.
A languid sigh, punctuated by a slight cough, brushed against my jeans.
Grimacing, I plucked the cold, damp rag from where it fell on the bed and tossed it into the bucket. “This better not be contagious.”
His arm draped over me, fingers wedging between my leg and the bed. I reminded myself he was suspicious and I didn’t trust him.
I was only doing this so I could get information. The sooner I did, the sooner I could send him on his way.
A few hours later, I startled awake in a completely dark room with a weight trapping me. Instantly, I went on defense, muscles tensing as I rolled, flipping the weight beneath me and pinning it down.
That’s when I heard the sound. Urgent, rhythmic clacking. My head snapped up to survey the room, searching the corners and everything in between. The body beneath me jerked, and I glanced down, realizing what was happening.
“Pip?” I asked, the past few hours rushing back to me.
Shit. I fell asleep. Geezuz, he could have pulled out a knife and stabbed me!
Not really. I had searched him just like the previous time. And just like before, all he had on him was a library card. Still, I knew better than to let my guard down.
“It’s c-c-c-cold,” he chattered through his teeth. His entire body trembled as he curled in on himself even as I pinned him to the mattress.
I could have hurt him. I pulled back immediately, but he made a sound of protest.
“N-n-n-n-ooo,” Pip whined, teeth still snapping.
Bolting out of bed, I went to grab the thermometer from the edge of the bathroom sink, and when I came back, the scene was a punch in the gut. How small he looked curled up in the center of the bed, arms wrapped around his knees as he shivered.
The thermometer beeped, and I dropped on one knee and pushed him onto his back. He released a pained whimper as he weakly attempted to roll back into himself.
“I’m taking your temperature,” I told him. “Open your mouth.”
But his teeth were chattering too much for him to hold it under his tongue.
Instead, I tugged the shirts off his body and rolled him onto his back.
“It’s cold,” he whined.
“I’m gonna get you a blanket,” I promised, sticking the end of the thermometer into his armpit. It was the best I could do at the moment.
He flinched away from it, but I caught his face, pushing it toward me, keeping my palm flat against his cheek. “Easy, baby. I’m almost done.”
He stopped fighting, relaxing into the mattress even as he trembled. Feeling his attention, I looked up from the thermometer and met a pair of gray eyes.
“Why are you always in the dark?” he murmured.
“It’s where I belong.”
Beeping filled the room, and I pulled back, glancing down at the lit screen. “Your fever broke,” I announced.
“I had a fever?” he asked, then, “Where am I?”
Before I could reply, he started trembling again, teeth rattling.
Tossing the thermometer, I grabbed the mug and held it out. “Drink some water.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Right now, Pip.”
Weakly, he pushed into a sitting position, his pale skin practically a beacon in the dark. His arms were thin and unsteady, the water sloshing when he took the cup.
Grabbing the bottom, I held it still while he drank more than before but still not enough. His hand fell away from the ceramic, and I moved back.
“Where are you going?” The panic in his tone was a tight fist around my heart.
After checking the time, I went back into the bathroom, not even bothering to flick on a light. I knew my way around darkness better than most knew in daylight.
“Hero,” he called, the blankets on the bed rustling. “Wait.”
Forgetting what I was doing, I moved back to the doorway, nearly colliding with his shirtless frame.
He let out a gasp and stumbled back, falling onto his ass. Immediately, he groaned, which turned into a cough that rattled my ears. I watched him hunch on the floor, face pressed into the crook of his elbow as his back spasmed with the hacking.
The urge to pick him up off the floor was so strong that my fingers flexed and my toes tried to push forward, but I forced myself to remain erect in the doorway.
“How do you know my name?” I asked, watching him writhe.
The arm in front of his mouth lowered. “W-what?”
“My name,” I snapped. “How do you know it?”
“I-I don’t,” he stammered, then coughed again.
This time, I did pull him off the floor, hand wrapped around his upper arm like a vise. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“Who sent you?”
The whites of his eyes were like headlamps in the night when he looked at me and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He was shaking. Skin vibrating beneath my palm.
Automatically, I loosened my grip, and he started to slump toward the floor.
Cursing, I scooped him up in a bridal-style hold, ignoring how easy it was.
“It’s so cold,” he said quietly, curling into my body heat.
Turning, I went back into the bathroom, juggling his weight to grab the meds out of the plastic bag I’d tossed on the counter.
“Can I have my shirts back before you throw me out?” His voice was feeble, breath brushing across my chest.
“No.”
His body quivered, but he said nothing.
“Take this,” I said, gruff.
His head rolled against my arm as he squinted at the pills in my palm. “What is that?”
“Medicine to keep your fever down.”
I expected a protest. I did not expect him to part his lips and wait for me to feed him the pills.
After a brief pause, I tossed them in his mouth and gave him more water out of the cup by the bed.
I felt his eyes the entire time he swallowed, but I avoided looking at him while he drank from my hands.
When he was finished, he relaxed back into my arms. “Thank you,” he said before his teeth started snapping again.
“Stop that,” I demanded.
“I don’t feel good.”
“You need to go back to sleep.”
“Aren’t you going to throw me out?”
“Later.”
When I laid him back in the bed, he sighed happily. “Smells like you in here,” he said softly. “It’s so cold.”
Sighing, I tugged the shirt over my head and slipped between the covers.
He didn’t even hesitate, just wiggled until he was tucked beneath my arm, body pressing against my side. “That’s so much better.” He exhaled.
“Body heat.” No cuddling here. All science.
His hand rested over my heart, cheek pillowed on my chest. A force of air blew across my torso when he coughed. Gusting those germs all over me. It was practically a death threat.
“Gonna have to do better than that,” I muttered.
As if some little pipgeek could take me out with a cough. He has no idea who he’s messing with.
Another chill racked his body, and I tugged up the blankets, covering us both. “Hurry up and get better. I want answers,” I said, sliding my hand up and down his back. You know, to generate heat. All his quaking made me feel like a human milkshake.
“I don’t know your name,” he murmured.
Still going with that, was he? You’d think, after I carried him off the street and fought off his fever, he’d have a little more consideration.
“You called me Hiro.” I reminded him, suspicious all over again.
I thought he’d fallen asleep, but long minutes later, his drowsy voice filled the room. “Because that’s what you are,” he whispered, “my hero.”
The breath left my body. I stared up at the onyx ceiling, feeling as though it had no beginning or end. I don’t know how long I lay there ruminating on the little info drop. Long enough for the body curled around mine to stop trembling and his breathing to even out.
Did he just… call me his hero?
Well, fuck.