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“Uh, yeah, Aunt Effie.”
“Fuck. Sorry, shouldn’t have said that.”
Brooks’ lips twitched. “I’ve heard the word fuck before.”
“But not from me.”
“What about that time you stubbed your toe against the coffee table? Or when you spilled spaghetti all down your shirt? Or when you saw a mouse in the pantry?”
“All right, I get it. How come you have to have such a good memory? Why couldn’t you be one of those unobservant kids?”
Brooks just grinned as he sat on the side of the bed, watching her.
“You want to do me a favor and forget all those times?” she asked.
“Sure, Auntie, I’ll get right on that.”
She sighed and ran her hand over her face. “What the hell happened?”
“They said you took some of your pain pills.”
“They?” she asked.
“Um, Mr. Steele and Mr. Grady. Your bosses.”
“Holy crap.” They’d both been here? “Shit. I don’t usually drop into a coma like that.” Sure, the pills made her tired. Maybe a bit loopy if she took them on an empty tummy. But she was never completely out of it.
And she felt like there was more to it. What wasn’t she remembering?
“They didn’t like that you sleep on the couch.”
“What?” She froze. Fuck. They’d been in the apartment?
Of course they have. Steele carried you to bed.
“Yeah. They didn’t like it at all. And when I told them I had offered to sleep on the couch, they didn’t like that either. Effie . . .”
“Yeah?”
“They said they were leaving someone out the front of the building to make sure we were safe.”
“What?” she whispered. “Why? Are we not safe?”
“I think . . . I kind of think they wanted to stay. To make sure that you were all right. But they didn’t want to push me, and so they, um, they said to call them if you needed them and that someone would be sitting in a car out front all night.”
What the heck?
“That seems . . . intense.” Kind of scary. And kind of, well, caring? Was she nuts to think that?
“Aunt Effie? I don’t know any other bosses who act like they do. They seem . . . they really seem to care about you.”
“I don’t . . . I don’t really know what’s going on. But they have a rule about getting involved with any of their employees.”
“Right. Well, I’m just saying . . . they might be breaking their own rule. And I guess if you make the rule, you get to change it.”
“I guess.” She probably shouldn’t be having his conversation with her sixteen-year-old nephew.
“Did they . . . did I . . .?” She cleared her throat.
