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“Inhaler,” he managed. “Bag . . . by door.”
I ran to the door where his brown leather messenger bag lay slouched against the wall. I quickly dug through it to find the inhaler, then hurried back to Nick and shoved it into his hand. Trembling, he gripped the inhaler tightly and gave himself two quick puffs. A few seconds later he seemed to relax a little, and the wheeze faded.
“You need anything else?” I asked, worried. “Should I call someone?”
He gave his head a quick, sharp shake. “No, I’ll be okay.” He gave himself another puff, then straightened without looking at me. “Thanks. Sorry.”
“It’s no biggie,” I told him. Poor dude was obviously self-conscious and embarrassed, but at least his color was back. My continuing to fuss over him would only embarrass him more. “I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”
“Yeah, Derrel isn’t back until Monday, so I’ll be in and out,” he said, continuing to recover.
“Cool. Let’s grab coffee if we can squeeze out a few minutes.”
He flicked a quick glance at me, smile twitching. “Sure. That’d be great.”
I hesitated, then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow,” I said as my dad came out with a BigShopMart bag in one hand. Reluctantly turning away, I headed to the door, Dad following.
I was in the foyer when I heard Nick clear his throat. “See you, Angel.”
Glancing back, I gave him a smile. Something was going on with him, and as soon as I settled back into my normal routine, I intended to find out what the hell it was.
I got my dad settled back at home, changed clothes and then headed out to return the car to Randy. My car was still broken down by Top Cow Café, or at least I hoped so. Getting that taken care of had been pretty far down on my list of priorities. Worst case scenario was that the city had towed it off, in which case I intended to get the Tribe to cover the tow costs. Least they could do, right?
Either way, I’d wheedle a ride home from Randy, or if that failed I’d call my dad to come get me. Though I’d then have to explain why the heck I was with Randy in the first place, and ugh, all that crap. Maybe I could walk the hell home.
Randy stepped out of the garage as I pulled into the driveway, the crunch of oyster shells beneath the tires announcing my presence better than any alarm. He wiped grease from his hands then pulled a joint out of his pocket, lit it, and headed my way.
I stepped out of the car, closed the door and gave him a smile. “Not a scratch,” I told him. “I even ran her through a car wash.” The pleasant smell of a wood fire hung in the air, and an owl hooted off in the woods beyond the trailer.
Randy gave me a lazy smile. “Looks good. You got everything done you needed to get done with your people?”
“Sure did,” I said. “Or at least enough for now.” Getting our people back from the Dallas lab was next on the agenda, but I doubted the Tribe would need me for that, especially if Andrew cooperated.
“That’s good,” he said. “Win win.” He held the joint out to me. “It’s good stuff. Just in.”
“Aw, man, I wish I could take a hit,” I said with a grimace. “My medical condition, remember?” Except that, in a way, I kind of wanted to take a hit. Not for the high, but to be able to participate in this little social thing. Well, maybe for the high too.
“Oh, right.” He gave a little chuckle. “Sorry. Want me to light a cigarette for you?”
“Yeah, sure.” I’d settle for a fucking cigarette. “Is there any way you could give me a ride home?” I asked. “My car’s still broke down by Top Cow.”
“I could drive you home.” He set the joint on a fence post, then lit a cigarette and passed it to me. “But it’s probably not a good idea.”
Nodding, I took a drag. “Y’mean ’cause my dad hates you?” I said with a grin.
“There’s that.” He chuckled, not seeming at all put out that he wasn’t universally loved. He picked up the joint, took a hit. “I was more thinking ’cause your car’s right over there under the big oak.” He gestured with the joint.
I looked over in shock and gave a surprised laugh. “Aw, you went and picked it up?”
He smiled, leaned against the fence post. “Didn’t fly over here on its own, now did it?”
“I’m guessing you fixed whatever was wrong with it too, huh?”
He let out a soft snort. “Wasn’t hardly anything wrong with it. Just needed a new alternator.”
“Yeah, well, I’m dumb about cars,” I said. “But thanks. That was really cool of you.”
He shrugged off my gratitude and hooked a thumb toward the back of the trailer. “I got a fire going in the pit. Was gonna grill up some deer sausage. Want some? Fire’ll take the chill off, and you always liked hanging out by the pit.”
