“Hmm?”
“When you called.”
I squeezed my eyes tighter, thinking about the bookstore. Then I added the wailing alarm to the memory and recalled walking toward the security panel. That’s right. I was going to shut it off. Nine, nine, four, six was Beth’s code.
But then I was hit.
I didn’t remember pulling out my cell phone, nor calling Calvin. I didn’t even remember him answering.
“Sebastian? Where are you?”
“Surre—hurts. I can’t turn ooooff.”
“I’m on my way, sweetie. Please keep talking to me. Has someone hurt you?”
“Head—hurts a lot.”
“Sebastian?”
“Isss loud—I—I’m sick.”
I remembered vomiting and then nothing.
“Did I pass out in my own barf?” I whispered.
“No one but the paramedics and me know,” Calvin said, but I swore he spoke with a smile.
I opened my eyes again. “You like pet names.”
“What?”
“Baby, sweetie. You’re the romantic sort under that stern exterior.”
“Why did you look up my military history?”
I waved one hand lightly. “Got curious. How do you have the highest military honor ever awarded and not talk about it?”
Calvin was silent for a long time.
“I can’t see your face. Are you angry?”
“Do I sound angry?”
“No. You sound… weird.”
“I don’t like talking about it,” he answered gently.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” Calvin was quiet for a beat. “Do you want me to call Millett for you?”
“W-What about you?” I asked. That whole,babyandsweetiething was making me think….
“He’s your partner. I’m sure he’d be worried,” Calvin said. “I’ll give him a ring.”
That’s how I ended up seeing Neil again.
My doctor was explaining to Pop and me that because of the bump on my head, and the fact that I had been sick and lost consciousness, it was a sign of a serious concussion that he felt was best monitored by authorized personnel for twenty-four hours. I had zero interest in staying in the hospital and running up a few grand for my brief and unpleasant stay, but Dad was having none of my bitching, so I promptly gave up.
