"Relax. Just a few pills so she's not uncomfortable. Same stuff she's been taking."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. Came from the pharmacy. All clean."
"Next time you clear it with me first." I don't raise my voice. I don't have to.
Silence.
"Is that why you were at the house?"
"Yeah. Thought you knew."
I exhale slowly. "She didn't mention it." I hang up before either of us says something that turns this into a bigger conversation than I have patience for right now. Raul means well. He knows my feelings on this. If anything goes into her body, it goes through me first, and that's not negotiable.
The sun is dropping by the time my target finally reappears and heads for the Porsche. I give him a half block and pull out after him, easy, unhurried,Say Nalow on the speakers.
He leads me to a strip lot with two options: pizza or liquor store. He doesn't slow down for the pizza place. Rushes into the liquor store looking over his shoulder on the way in, like the parking lot might be watching him.
My phone lights up. Ma.
Where are you mijo?
Out, won't be too late. Que paso?
If I pick up a shift tomorrow can you drop me off?
Yeah just let me know. Love you.
I lock the phone and watch the entrance. I hate her working weekends downtown. Busier, less chance to sit, rougher crowd. The driving doesn't bother me, I've been her ride since the accident and I'd do it without thinking. It's everything around the driving that bothers me. The fact that she has to go at all. Thefact that surgery exists that could help her damaged nerves and we can't get close to affording it yet.
Soon. After this.
My target comes back out with two brown bags, tosses them in the trunk without looking, and peels out like he's already late. I fall in at a safe distance and follow him toward the parking garage, pace easy, nothing to see.
Routine. Predictable. Almost disappointing.
But my mind drifts anyway, the way it keeps doing today without my permission. Blonde hair. Sage green eyes. That scoff. I find myself wondering what she's doing on a Friday night, and then wondering why that's where my head goes when I'm supposed to be watching a man whose patterns I'm building into a blueprint.
I don't have a good answer.
I follow the Porsche into the dark of the garage and let the thought go.
CHAPTER 10
HARVEE
The wine practically calls my name from the shelf. I grab it. Grab the salt-and-vinegar chips beside it without breaking stride.
This week deserves consequences.
The plan was a hot bubble bath, the wine, and one of the books collecting dust on my nightstand. A proper spiral, fully romanticized. I was committed to it.
"Harvee with two E's!"
I spin around. Melanie, from Freddy's, grinning like she's been waiting for me to walk through that door all day. Her eyes drop to my basket and the grin widens.
"That should tell you everything you need to know about my week," I say.