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“Sorry, don’t have time.” He lumbered toward a pile of his clothes in my living room before plucking some clean items and shoving them into his backpack.
“You can’t go to Morocco.” I hadn’t a clue what inspired me to say this. He clearly could.
Riggs chuckled, not looking back from his backpack. He slung it over his shoulder, patting his pockets down to ensure he had his wallet and passport. For him, traveling around the world was akin to taking the subway to Williamsburg. “See you on October twenty-second.”
He headed to the door. Rage simmered up my throat, and my fists balled painfully, my nails digging into my skin.
“Charlie is gonna die tonight.”
He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around to look at me. The only sign that he’d heard me was the tiny nod of his head.
“What do you want me to do with that information?” Riggs asked frostily.
“Say goodbye.”
“I didn’t even want to sayhello,” he reminded me, slowly turning on his heel to meet my gaze.
“I know.” I didn’t waver. Didn’t look away. “But the hello happened, so a proper goodbye shall follow too.”
Riggs blew out air. “I appreciate the heads-up, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Stepping forward, I couldn’t help myself and grabbed his hands. A shot of electricity ran through me. He was warm and rough and familiarand no longer mine, and my heart broke all over again. I hated myself for not telling him how I felt when I still had a chance. When there was a minuscule chance of us being together.
I inhaled. “Trust me, you’ll regret it if you don’t see him before he passes away.”
“How do you know?” His eyes tapered.
“Because even though I hate my father, and haven’t seen him in over twenty years, I’d still want to see him if he was dying. It’s not about his welfare. It’s aboutyours.”
I was fully bracing myself for the sting of rejection. After all, Riggs had made it clear I no longer had any sort of hold on him. But he surprised me by sighing and glancing at his watch.
“Fuck. Fine. On one condition.”
I blinked up at him, waiting.
“You’re coming with me.”
Willing myself not to jump to conclusions—it was hard, with my heart soaring madly in my chest—I gave him a curt nod. “I was going to pay him a visit, anyway.”
“Meet you there in an hour?” His voice was flat and disinterested.
“Yes.” I paused. “Where are you going?”
“I have some loose ends to tie up.”
With that, he was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
RIGGS
Charlie wasn’t in his usual room when I came to see him. They’d moved him to another unit, which made finding him a real bitch. There seemed to be an unwritten rule that hospitals were impossible to maneuver. Once I found him, I wished I hadn’t. He was sound asleep in his bed and looked like he’d aged three decades overnight. He was hooked to an IV, and I guessed they’d pumped a ton of painkillers into him. He didn’t look alive. Not by his color or his weight. It looked like his soul—or whatever it was that made peoplelookalive—had already exited the building.
I sucked in a breath, hating him and myself and Duffy for being in this situation. I forced myself to walk inside.
Since I didn’t want to disturb his sleep, I waited. I had no doubt Daphne was going to show up, but I still couldn’t understand what made me want her here. Even if she wasn’t back with BJ yet, the fact that I’d spent the last few weeks drinking myself into oblivion and avoiding the apartment like it was radioactive must’ve shown her Iwasn’t boyfriend material. Still, I couldn’t escape her. She wasn’t just in my head; she was in my veins too. A permanent part of my DNA. A fixture I could never get rid of. She consumed me like a snake eating its prey, swallowing me whole.
Twenty minutes after I walked in, Charlie began to stir back to life. More like groaned his way back into it. The man made it sound like it was impossible to breathe, and even though I wanted to take pleasure in seeing him in pain, I couldn’t muster the pettiness.
