Page 57 of Allegiant

“He came to check on me last night. I think he’s worried.” I take another sip of the warm liquid. “He rarely does that.” I hear the knocks in my memory, the way he slammed his cane against the wall. “He only comes over when he needs something.”

Suddenly his words come back to me.

You want my death on your conscience?

My heart thunders loudly and adrenaline shoots through me. “Fuck. I need to check on him. Right now.”

I’m breathless as I scramble to sit up, my tea nearly sloshing onto my thighs.

Samson lets me go, taking the mug and standing up while I flutter around the room, pulling on a shirt.

“Fuck, what if something’s wrong with him? What if he’s dead?” My eyes are watering again, and Samson takes hold of me, his hands grounding me for a long moment.

“Breathe, baby,” he says softly. “Larry is okay. I’ve told you before—that man is younger than he’s making himself out to be.”

“He’s not. He’s old, and I ignored him last night…”

My hands flap around in the air before me, but Samson takes hold of them, squeezing them gently.

I half expect him to tell me to calm down, to not worry, but instead, he presses a soft kiss to my knuckles. “Let’s go check on him, then.”

I let out a relieved breath and nearly pull him out the front door, almost forgetting to put on my slides as I go. Samson reminds me, pointing to them before my bare feet hit the concrete.

I’m half out of my mind by the time we’re at Larry’s door. I twist the handle, and when it doesn’t give way like it usually does, I pound on the door.

“Larry, open up!” I’m nearly screaming, and Samson squeezes the back of my neck.

“You have a key. Did you bring it?” Samson asks, and I swallow, shaking my head and then nodding.

“Yeah, I had one made. It’s on my keychain,” I gasp and knock on the door once more.

“I’ll go get it.”

He jogs back the way we came, and I watch him go, my eyes watering as I imagine every worst-case scenario. Larry on the floor, blood pooled around him, his face lifeless and pale.

Just like Adam’s was.

I knock once more, a weak tap on the frame. The whole world is spinning, my legs growing weak.

Oh god, not again. I can’t lose Larry like I lost Adam. It would be all my fault…

Suddenly the door opens, and Larry appears, a frown on his face. The relief that filters through me nearly puts me on the ground. “What the fuck are you doing? I was sleeping.”

I inhale sharply and collapse forward, right into him. The world around me winks, my vision fading before bursting back to life as strong arms carry me to the couch. I expect to see Samson there, but it’s Larry. His stride is strong and steady. Unwavering.

He’s murmuring under his breath as he settles me on the couch. My body flops backward as he moves quickly across the room, grabbing a blanket from the back of the chair he’s usually sitting in.

“Where’s your cane?” I ask, and Larry’s gait changes slightly, almost as if he’s surprised I noticed. He tosses the blanket at me and sits down roughly.

“None of your business,” he grunts just as Samson appears, stalking into the room, his knife drawn as he approaches Larry. But when he sees me tucked under a blanket on the worn couch, he puts it away.

Thank god. I’ve had enough murder in my life to last an eternity.

“Took you long enough,” Larry grumbles. “Were you with him last night?”

“I was.”

“Good.”