Page 5 of The Sidekick

She swivels to face me, straining the seat belt. “I have your purse. We went to the bar to find you when you weren't answering your phone. I thought you forgot it again.”

I forgot I even had it on me. Pulling the device out of my apron pocket, I power it back on absently.

“You had it on you the whole time?” Blaze asks in disbelief.

Andi glares at him and mouths, “Shut up.”

“You can’t have a cell phone on in the waiting room,” Ira glares at the rearview mirror.

I have over a dozen missed calls from Andi, starting from before the shooting until a few hours ago. Several demands from her via text to answer my phone. Trevor called a few times but didn’t leave a message. An unknown number appears three times but doesn’t leave a message. I don’t recognize it.

I should call Trevor and let him know Joe didn’t make it. I don’t want to do that here with so many people. I want to cry privately, where jerks can’t comment on it. My sweet boss wouldn’t do that to me, but these people wouldn’t hesitate.

Andi hands me my purse, and I stare at it too long because Felix grabs it and drops it in my lap. I squeeze the phone between my hands and lean against the window, letting the chill work through my budding headache.

Everyone is so quiet that I’m lulled into a false sense of security, the numbness flowing back in. When I notice that we’ve just passed my neighborhood, I frown.

“Where are we going?” I ask softly in confusion.

“My place,” Andi assures me, twisting around again to reach out and pat my knee. It doesn’t happen when she notices the blood staining my skin.

“I want to go home,” I protest. I just want some privacy to grieve for someone they would never understand or accept.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” Andi glances at Ira with concern, and he shakes his head with a frown.

“Take me home,” I try to force some steel behind the words when I feel so weak I might crumble at the first push.

“If she wants to go home, let her,” Blaze puts in, sounding impatient, and Andi lurches in her seat, stopped from jumping up by the seat belt holding her in place.

“Shut up, Blaze. She shouldn’t be alone right now,” her voice starts to rise in pitch, and the men around me flinch in response.

“I want to be alone.”

That stops the building tirade as Andi looks at me with surprise. I’ve never asked to be left alone before; I’m too social. Maybe she’ll take me seriously instead of making this even more uncomfortable.

“Take me home.” I close my eyes tightly and rest my head against the window again, willing them all to disappear.

Felix shifts uncomfortably beside me, and I slide farther away from him on the seat, pressing into the door to give him more room. I have no idea why I’m trying to make him more comfortable. It’s not like he would do the same for me. I blame my customer service training.

When we pull up in front of my building, there are a few protests about how unsafe it looks. I forgot that they’ve never been here before. One look at this place will have them ranting about how I’m using Andi for money again. I’m surprised they haven’t started now.

Andi offers to walk me to my apartment, which starts an argument about her safety. I shake my head and slide out of the seat, closing the door softly behind me. Despite the look of the building, this is a pretty safe neighborhood.

Before I can get inside, I hear one of the windows lower, and Andi’s voice calls out, “I’ll call you tonight, ok?”

I don’t acknowledge her as I open the entrance door and begin the trek up the stairs to my apartment. No one bothers me on the steps, although I get a few concerned looks.

I don’t remember getting inside or starting the shower until I burst into tears again. I forgot to take my clothes off, and the tub is a mess now. Cleaning it up seems like an impossible task. Undressing is just as bad. At least I dropped my purse and phone somewhere. I can’t even remember if I locked the front door.

I stay under the water until it runs cold, finally undressing and scrubbing my skin until it’s raw. I check that the front door is locked on autopilot and pick up my phone to charge it, keeping it on silent. No matter how selfish it makes me, I don’t want any more contact with people right now. Then I lay in bed and cry myself to sleep.

Chapter Two

Max

“Call again,” I tell Trevor as I uselessly pace in front of the bed.

“Babe,” Trevor rubs his exhausted eyes in frustration. “If she’s at the hospital, she won’t be able to answer. You know how bad the service is in places like that.”

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