Page 70 of Death, Interrupted

His voice pulled me back a little. I focused on the railing and started counting the chipped paint marks all over it. I followed his instructions, listening to him talk without ever stopping, and thanks to him, the shaking dulled enough that I felt like being in control of my body again.

He stayed on the phone as he walked up the stairs and came into view. He came straight to me and crouched down, eyes scanning my face before glancing at the shirt.

“Are you hurt?” He cupped my face and brushed my cheeks with his thumbs.

I shook my head.

“Okay.” He studied the shirt again. His jaw flexed, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. His eyes came back to me, and he gave me an encouraging smile. “You did the right thing calling me. Let’s get you inside.”

I nodded, but as he helped me up, I couldn’t help but looking at the shirt on the floor. I froze again. “What is it? Blood?”

“Looks like it.” He wasn’t sugarcoating it, and he didn’t have to. I didn’t want him to make everything less than it really was just for my sake. And he wouldn’t lie to me anyway.

When I still didn’t move, he positioned himself in front of me and held my face with both hands again. “Everything’s going to be okay, Sumner. I promise you that.” And he meant every word.

“Okay.”

He waited until I was steady enough to walk, then helped me inside, keeping close but not crowding me. Once I was sitting on the couch, he pulled out his phone.

“I’m going to check if Joey’s home,” he said.

I swallowed hard. I didn’t want him to leave, but I knew I couldn’t stop him from going. And if he went to check, we’d be more in the clear about Joey and his condition. We hadn’t heard from him since that evening. Not that we wanted to. But it was better to check what was up with him than to stay in the dark.

“Please be careful.”

“I won’t get too close.” He grabbed the blanket off the armrest and draped it over me, then he leaned in and kissed my forehead. “I won’t be long.”

Sly

I’d seen fear before, plenty of it. But the fear in Sumner’s eyes ran deeper than anything I’d seen.

Leaving her felt wrong, but I needed to check on Joey. I locked her door so she would feel safe, I picked up the bloodied shirt from the floor and walked out to where I had parked April.

I had left my apartment so fast that I forgot to grab my helmet, but I didn’t care about my safety when hers was more important.

On the sidewalk I stood for a moment with the rolled up shirt in my hand. It didn’t look like human blood to me, and because I couldn’t be sure if Joey had been the one who left it on her door, I decided not to take it with me. I tossed it in the nearest trash can and climbed onto April. Then I rode to Joey’s place.

I stopped a few houses down, but close enough to look through his windows. The lights were on downstairs, and I waited patiently for him to come into view. When he finally appeared about ten minutes later, I observed him closely, trying to make out his facial expression.

Squinting did nothing for my sight, and I decided I didn’t only need to try those colorblind glasses, but also a real pair of prescription ones, since I was gettingolder and my twenty-eight year old eyes were only worsening with all the gaming I did.

Joey moved around the kitchen with little to no motivation. He didn’t look happy about having to prepare his own food. The fucker didn’t have anyone to cook for him anymore.

Even though I didn’t want to admit it, he looked healthier than the last time I had seen him, and to be fair that last time had been on the floor with blood pouring from his head.

There was no visible wound now, no stitches and no bandage, so he had recovered well enough on the surface. As for his memory, I wasn’t so sure. I couldn’t tell, and just showing up at his door and asking wasn’t up for question.

I got the answers I needed for now and drove back, not willing to spend more time stalking the asshole instead of being close to Sumner.

Once I got to her building, I parked April on the side and went straight upstairs. I knocked softly before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

“Sly?” she called out.

“Yeah, it’s me, baby.”

She was still on the couch where I’d left her, knees pulled up under the blanket. Her eyes lifted to meet mine. I sat down beside her and slid an arm around her back, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“How are you feeling?” I asked quietly.