Dean:
Go to sleep and stop calling me old man or I’ll spill my guts.
Dom:
You wouldn’t!
Thank fuck Dean talked him out of streaking. Once I’m caught up on the texts that I thankfully missed last night, I tap out my reply, not even hesitating at the time difference. They were okay with texting me in the middle of the night. I have zero guilt giving them an extra early wake up call with the time difference.
Cruz:
You all know I’m supposed to be getting rest to heal right?
Dom:
CRUZ! My man, did I wake you?
Cruz:
No, because I turn this chat on mute at night for a reason.
Dean:
That’s smart. How do you have so much energy?
Dom:
Because I am not elderly.
Dean:
…
Dom:
Before you do anything rash, I only agreed to stop calling you “Old man.”
Dean:
You’re lucky I’m terrified of her.
Hendrix:
Terrified of who?
Dom:
Nobody, you can’t trust his memory.
The advanced years are setting in.
Suddenly Dom’s not so talkative, ruining the only thing that was distracting me from the fact that I’m here, alone, with no word from the one person I want to talk to more than anything.
The hotel I checked into last night has one perk, the location. It’s close to Rich’s office in downtown St. Louis and has a decent gym. After a quick shower I walk the two blocks to the gym. The staff set me up with a pass for the week, and while my workout is boring and doesn’t do shit to take the edge off, at least I’m moving.
The glare Rich gives me tells me just how happy he is to see me when he rounds the corner and finds me waiting outside of his office at 7:55 a.m. He stops in front of me, muttering under his breath with a pinched expression and shake of his head. I don’t catch it all but it sounds an awful lot like,“Dumb kid,”“should be home,”and“hospital.”
When he finishes unlocking the door, he finally stops and looks up at me. “You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”
