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"Yes, that's me." He sounds quite proud of his nickname. Knowing my luck, he'll adopt it like Knox did when I started calling him Slayer.
"Sorry. I tired."
"That's ok, you can rest now." Porter sounds so kind as he gives me permission to sleep. I have nothing better to do until Gavriil is awake and needs to talk.
"No. He can't sleep. He has to go home." The doctor gives me a prod in the arm.
Home?
Well, we have a problem then, don't we. I don’t technically have a home.
I'm sure I'll manage, if they just get me up. I can look after myself. I don’t have many other options.
"You send pizza?"
"Not this time. You need more than a takeaway." Knox speaks in that very final tone of his, and I know nothing can change the words he says when he says them like that. I am getting more than a takeaway and that is final. I just nod and leave my dietary needs to the greatest man in the whole city.
Chapter twelve
Knox
Thedoctorwon'tcarefor Nico long term, he is just a regular GP surgery, earning a little extra on the side. He deals with injuries we can't take to the hospital; like me getting shot in the gut.
Gavriil's wounds were far above his skill set, but we’re facing up to the possibility they were beyond anyone’s abilities. Michael’s line in the sand is not keeping anyone here overnight. He isn’t licenced for overnight care, and while most of the work he does for us is aiding and abetting criminals, it isn't so obvious as keeping the building habited overnight.
"We'll find someone to sit with him tonight, if you can make a few house calls for the next few days," I offer.
Michael nods; he likes the sound of house calls. Or should I say he likes his fee for house calls. Paying isn't an issue, I could throw money at anything I wanted and never even notice the dip in my bank account.
"That would work perfectly," Michael agrees. "Where will the boy be going?"
"Caeo, you have to take Nico home and look after him for a few days. Paid time off, of course." It is the perfect arrangement. Caeo dotes on the boy with gifts of clothing and food; and Caeo is the only man who can make Nico blush. And yes, I'm secretly hoping Nico finds a forever home from this arrangement.
"Why me?" Caeo frowns, almost glaring at me. "I'm not a babysitter."
"I not am a baby," Nico adds. "I am OK going home. I can look after myself."
For a moment, I'm lost for words, mainly because Nico seems to manage English much better than I remember. But the truth is that Nico can't go home, wherever that may be, until he can stand and move around on his own. He needs care and attention for a few days at least until he is physically healed.
The mental healing could take months.
"Caeo, he needs to be with you. I need someone I can trust to keep him safe." I have a soft spot for the kid, but I can’t jeopardise what I have with Porter.
"Pick someone else," Caeo mutters. “I don’t know how to take care of him.”
I know he doesn’t have a problem with Nico, it's being stuck at home with him instead of out investigating this mess with me. Caeo is used to a more hands on approach. We're both too alike. Both of us want to help Nico by beating the people who did this to him, rather than actually nursing him. I realise it's been my biggest weakness this past six years, but it seems it's also Caeo's.
"Caeo, please. There is no one else I trust."
Caeo has an even bigger soft spot for Nico than myself. I know he cares about him; he’s just always insisted the boy was too young, but I'm sure Nico is old enough now. It's been six years.
"I'm not taking him. This is as much my investigation as it is yours. Pick some other lacky to babysit." Caeo doesn't just walk away from me, he leaves the room.
I look at Nico, expecting rejection on his face, but he looks relieved. Caeo is a bit old and sedate for a young man in his teens, but that's just what he needs for the next few days.
"Don't worry Nico. You can stay with us," Porter volunteers.
"What? No." I can't help the gasp that comes with my words. My feelings for Porter make me appear soft, adopting Nico could be the final straw. No one would fear a man who pities and adopts broken young men. They'll think the way to impress me is to appear weak, and I cannot abide people who appear weak. Porter has never looked weak to me. Even tied up on the bed, unable to move, being edged and tortured to within an inch of his tolerance, and I only see his strength in the moment. Porter is the only man strong enough for me.
