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“I’ve been a bit caught up with other events.” I give her a half smile, and when she scowls at me, I raise a weak hand. “Nothing’s happened since then, and there’s no evidence anyone knows where I live. I’m tracking the messaging on the hackers’ systems.” I shrug. “I don’t know what more I can do. Maybe I’m being blasé but …”
She’s quiet for a few minutes, and I squeeze her hand. “I don’t want to tell Janus; he’s done more than enough for me. I’ll do some more asking around on the street, see if anyone knows anything.”
“Sounds good.” She smiles as she scans my face. “Rough night?”
Do I look that bad? My eyebrows come together.
“I’ve had a stressful few days. The woman I’m in love with wouldn’t speak to me, and I slashed my arm in some crazy attempt to win her back.”
She grins at me, sinking onto the side of the mattress, and I shift over to make space for her.
“Talking of your arm, how is it?”
That’s all she’s going to give me? My frown deepens, but she ignores my scowling face and naked chest and stretches out my elbow. Damn. She’s such a doctor. Pains shoot up to my shoulder, and I wince as her eyes narrow.
“Is it sore? Have you been back to the hospital to get it checked?”
“I don’t have an outstanding record with those places.”
Starting to unwrap the bandage, she purses her lips at me.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say.
This gets me a smile. “I’d have thought with your contacts you’d have industrial-strength pain relief on tap.”
“Funnily enough, they don’t sell much of that stuff on the street; too easy to buy through the standard routes.” I focus on my arm, stretched out on the blue covers, and my voice cracks. “And I promised this girl I know that I wouldn’t experiment so much.”
She frowns as she unwinds the stretchy cotton. “I also said I didn’t want you to change, just not kill yourself.”
We both look at the red welt on my arm at the same time, and an irrepressible grin breaks out on Kate’s face.
“Not doing so brilliantly on that front, am I?” I say, starting to laugh, and her smile morphs into a giggle and suddenly my chest fills with air.
She looks down, examining my skin, and I tip my head back against the pillows and close my eyes. The building’s unusually quiet, dim light seeping around the blinds, the computer fans humming. For the first time in a week, I’m not twisted up inside.
“Was there any problem with the computers? Did Nadine …?”
My eyes pop open. Having that name in this room when I’ve only just got Kate back in it feels like blasphemy. I press my fingers to her lips, shaking my head.
“She’d only been in my phone.”
Her face clears as she nods.
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” she says, studying the wound.
My mouth goes slack. What a generous thing to say. Are all doctors this amazing or is it just Kate? Her head is bent, blonde strands curling around her cheeks as she assesses the stitches in my arm.
“God. You do not need to apologize to me, Kate. I’m the one … I’m the one who fucked up here.” I stumble over my words.
She shakes her head at me.
She’s decided to trust me in this? Believe what I told her? I mean, of the three of us at college, I wasneverthe trustworthy one; that’s Adam or Janus. I’m the sketchy guy doing crazy shit. The back of my throat is scratchy. I tip my head back onto the pillows again, eyes watery, and a wave of weakness washes over me. This is important, this … this … whatever this light-as-air feeling is. Some age-long weight, that has been living in my skin for as long as I can remember, is slowly being scrubbed away.
She rubs a warm thumb over my stitches, oblivious to my meltdown.
“This has healed nicely. We should take these out.”
She stands and heads into the kitchen, and I close my eyes again, listening to her rummaging through the cupboards, water running.
