“I was just coming to let you know I’m heading out for the day,” I lied. “I have an appointment.”
“Okay,” he breathed. “She won’t be in the rest of the week, at least, I’m sure, so I’m working on a schedule that suits Monica.”
“She can pick up the weight for someone else for a change,” I shot back. “If you have any problems, call me. I’ll handle it.”
I fled his office, pulling my personal cell from my back pocket.
Where are you????
I shot off the text and hurried to grab my keys from my desk.
Lee or not, I was going to her wherever she was. I’d play it off as a concerned boss. An asshole boss. Anything.
Elena: On my way home.
Why???
Was she fucking insane? If she was driving, I’d lose it.
Elena: Because I live there? Lee’s taking me.
Are you staying at her place?
Elena: No.
Marty said you have a head injury. You shouldn’t be alone.
I’d seen a concussion or two in my day. Afterward, seizures were always a concern.
Elena: Stop being a worrywart.
She was insane. Beautiful, but hard-headed and fucking insane.
I’m on my way.
Elena: Lee is with me!
I don’t care.
Elena: Please don’t. I’m fine. I’ll text you later.
I ignored her pleas, plopping my phone in my pocket and racing to my car.
I should have known something was wrong when she didn’t answer. How could I be so stupid? I should have gone to check on her. Instead, I went to bed disappointed but otherwise content. True to form, I was only concerned with myself.
The drive to her apartment wasn’t long, but I swore I hit every fucking red light on the way. My chest burned, guilt eating away. If anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself. I had a responsibility to keep her safe. I protected my own. Fiercely and without apology.
When I pulled into the lot, I spied Lee’s SUV, her identifying stick-figure family of middle fingers displayed on the rear window. I eased into a spot on the opposite side of the lot. I played it cool, waiting it out, watching the rearview mirror for any signs of life.
An old man was walking a dachshund, and a woman was speed-walking in head-to-toe spandex, but other than that, her complex was quiet as usual. She was the youngest resident by far, most renters well over seventy. I had no clue why she lived there unless she was under a time crunch to move after the wedding debacle.
As soon as I could scrape up a decent excuse, I’d head to her unit, but until then, I was glued in place. I didn’t have a valid reason to show up, and Lee would know something was off. The concerned boss card wouldn’t stand up. I could kiss Chicago goodbye, and we’d both say hello to unemployment. We’d be fucked, all because I threw good judgment to the wind.
My phone buzzed, startling me.
Elena: Lee is running to the pharmacy so I can text interrupted. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing. Just a little cut.
On cue, I spied Lee spilling out of the door that led to the stairwell. She hurried to her vehicle, face stretched in worry, her red locks untamed thanks to the emergency. The chick had heart. Not every friend would drop everything to help you out in a time of need.
It’s serious. Head injuries are no joke.
Elena: I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.
Like hell. There was no way she was cleared to go back to work, let alone drive.
I’m signing you out for the week.
I didn’t have the authority to do it, but I’d keep her home. The brain was nothing to fuck with, and it needed time to heal whether you thought you were fine or not.
Elena: You’re overreacting.
I counted to thirty after Lee pulled out before exiting the Rover, not wanting to risk her turning back to see me. I couldn’t stay, but I could at least see Elena to put my mind at ease.
The staircase reeked of disinfectant, the typically cruddy treads cleaned to perfection. My stomach dropped at the smell, and I took the stairs two at a time, rushing down the hall to her unit. The scent followed - a mix of hospital, morgue, and hotel laundry. I held my breath as I knocked, trying to block it out.
Elena: Seriously? Is that you?
Maybe.
A moment later, the door opened, Elena appearing in fleece pants and a tank top, stitches marring her left temple, arms peppered with vicious purple welts.
I pulled her into a hug, crushing her to me.
“Hey! Easy!” she reminded, hands pushing against my chest. “Fragile! Fragile!”
“I’m sorry!” I loosened my arms, staring down at her.. “Why didn’t you call me?” I demanded.
It was far more than a little cut. There had to be at least ten stitches in the sucker, stretching from above her brow to her hairline, the usual flowing mane secured with a hair clip to keep the strands from the wound.
She pointed at the sealed gash in her flesh. “I was a little busy.”
I stepped around into the apartment, spying a nest of blankets on the sofa, a pizza box and several beer bottles littering the coffee table. That many beers would have left someone her size toasted. Why was she drinking like that on a weeknight?
“Were you drunk when you fell?” I asked, shocked.
Images of the incubator’s corpse came flying back, her hair matted with blood from the fatal fall, her skull broken. That could have been Elena. She could have met the same fate.
“Calm down, I had three beers,” she grumbled. “Hours before I fell. I tripped over my own feet.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Where did you fall?”
“Down the stairs on the way in. I was chasing Hank.”
That meant she bled all over where I just barreled through, the detergent used to wash away her blood. “Stupid cat,” I muttered. “Where is that furball, anyway?”
The fuzzy monster was usually on the armchair when I dropped her off.
