Page 89 of Resonance

“I’ll go, too.”

“No you won’t, you stubborn mule. You’ll rest like you’re supposed to. The only reason I woke you up was to tell you I was leaving so you wouldn’t wonder where everyone was. Quinn’s meeting with a gallery owner, but he’ll be back in a while. Also…” He worried his lower lip, and his hesitation made me want to shrink into the cushions. “There’s this lady Quinn has seen in the past, and he says she’s really helpful.”

I rolled my eyes, because I knew where this was going. “I don’t need to see anyone. I’m not suffering from PTSD. I got knocked in the head by a damn door.”

Ru studied me for a moment, then pulled the card out anyway, setting it on the table. “She said she can squeeze you in this week. I thought you and I could go get you a new phone tomorrow. You could make the appointment yourself. I mean, I’m not trying to guilt you into it.” He backtracked. “Yeah, actually I am. Because it will make me feel better. I want to make sure you’re okay, and I don’t know how to do that.”

I blinked at him. “You could just ask me.”

“You’ll tell me you’re fine, but you’d say that no matter what. You’re always fine because you’re just pouring sunshine outward like a fucking fountain.”

“And you think I’m covering up a black hole or something?”

“Maybe. You know, if you’re into mixing metaphors.” A tiny smile teased the corners of Ru’s lips, and I knew he was trying to coax some confession out of me.

“I’m not. I’m just me. And my head hurts.”

“Okay.” Disappointment made the word oblong and thick in his mouth.

When I didn’t say anything else—because there wasn’t anything else to say—Ru gave me a smile that was probably supposed to be encouraging but just looked sad.

He squeezed my shoulder before rising and heading toward the door. “I left my laptop open. Message me on Slack if you need anything. Quinn will be back soon,” he repeated.

Like I was some invalid.

The apartment was too silent after he left. And so still. Even the air seemed thick as glue. At least at Dan’s, there’d been Jez roaming, and the hum of the fridge and the pops and creaks of the floorboards expanding in the sun.

I kicked restlessly at the covers, stared high up into the ceiling, and felt useless against the blackness that had made a home in my chest. I missed Dan. Desperately. Insisting that he stay on the tour—and trying to be convincing about it—had used up every ounce of energy I’d had left.

Chapter 31

Irolled over in bed and for a second, I was disoriented, clueless as to where I was. Too many nights spent in beds that weren’t my own.

Dan’s house.It locked into place as I eased upright, the dull throb at my temples teasing a soft groan from me. Jezebel snaked between my arms and rubbed her cheek against my chest until I stroked her back. It’d been two days since the break-in, and I’d insisted on returning to Dan’s yesterday afternoon, desperate for a break from Ru and Quinn’s constant hovering, well-meaning as it was. Even Dan’s frequent check-ins were getting to me.

I was being an ungrateful, ornery little shit. I knew that, but I couldn’t muster up the energy to fight it. I just wanted to be left alone. The doctor had said I might feel off-kilter for a few weeks, but I wasn’t sure if the black feeling was part of that. It was like a shell around me that I couldn’t break through.

“I know,” I grumbled to Jez. “Breakfast.”

I shuffled into Dan’s kitchen and started the coffeepot, poured out some kibble for Jez, then added in an extra serving of the wet stuff she liked as penance for the craziness of the past few days.

With Ru still refusing to let me help at the shop, I had little to do but wander around and remind myself I’d ruined Dan’s life.

Getting down on myself served no purpose, I knew that. Innately I knew it. But the part I hadn’t figured out yet was the place where knowing and feeling met. Because I was good at knowing stuff, but I still fucking felteverything,regardless. I swear humans were the only creatures given higher consciousness only to self-sabotage with it.

I carried my coffee into the guest room and set it on the nightstand as I remade the bed. Jezebel prowled around my feet as I smoothed over the pillowcases.

“You smell like cat food,” I told her, wrinkling my nose. She twined through my legs and rubbed her head against me, unconcerned. “It’s not an attractive scent, but I’ll forgive you since I probably don’t smell much better.”

I hadn’t bothered to shower since the hospital, and I debated whether I was up to doing it after I looked through job listings online. If not, I’d put it on the goal list for tomorrow. Where it would occupy position #1 as I literally had nothing else on the list and nowhere else to be.

At a quarter to nine, someone hammered on the door. I waited to see if they meant it or if a turn of a key would follow, Aiden returning unexpectedly. A tiny part of me hoped he would. Whatever else he might be, I suspected he knew something about shit luck, and he definitely knew about fucking up.

When it came again, I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and took my time making my way into the living room, then peered out the window.

A tangle of emotion ruptured inside me. My eyes filled even as I snarled under my breath and tried to blink the sheen away.Stubborn fucking man.

I opened the door. “Is there a reason you’re knocking on your own door?” God, I think I probably hated myself the most right then.