Page 15 of Digging Deeper

Holden pulls me into a hug and whispers, “You okay, Gav?”

I hug him back tightly. I kinda needed a good Holden hug. “Uh… yeah.”

As he hugs his brother hello, I stare at them. A couple of months ago, I would’ve said they looked exactly alike, but now… I dunno, but now they look very, very different to me.

We sit down to eat, and I mostly stay back and listen to them talk. Holds keeps shooting me looks like he knows something’s up, but I only smile and shrug at him.

Nothing’s up at all, Holds. I’ve just been checking out your brother and noticing all his muscles.

Ugh.

When Holds is ready to go—thank god—I stand awkwardly next to Drix’s bed and wave like a dork. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I pat his shoulder. “You did really great today.”

He smiles at me. “Thanks. See ya.”

As soon as we’re out of the room, a huge sigh of relief leaves me.

“You sure you’re feeling okay over there?” Holds asks.

“Yep, I’m fine. I’m good.”

He eyes me, knowing I’m full of shit. “Want to stay over tonight?”

Holden thinks I’m still a mess from Friday night, and he wants to help. I love him for it, but I don’t want to impose. “Nah, I’m okay. But thanks.”

“You’re welcome over my house anytime. Jameson and I both like having you there.”

I smile and grab his arm, snuggling into him for a moment. “I know. Thank you, but I’m good.”

It’s clear he doesn’t believe me, but he gives me a hug and lets me go on my merry way. Well, not merry. Definitely not merry. More like on my crazed, nervous, and paranoid way.

I stay up half the night torturing myself with memories of how wonderful Drix smelled and how nice his shoulder felt—so ridiculous.

7

Hendrix

“You two, again? What do I have to do to get rid of you?” the man asks through the open door. He’s dirtier, scragglier, than I remember from last time we came.

“Sir, we received a 9-1-1 call. Your neighbors heard screaming and things being thrown around inside your residence. We need to—”

“You don’t need to do shit but get off my property!” the man yells, cutting Jameson off.

“Sir, we’re going to need you to calm down,” I say.

Immediately, I’m off the porch and standing in the middle of the couples’ yard. He’s screaming at me and Jameson, warning us to back off.How the hell did we get out here?I glance at my partner and he nods his head. We’re going to have to come at him from both sides and tackle this guy to the ground. He’s out of control.

“What are you doing? I don’t even understand why you’re here.” Pulling a gun out of his pants, he waves it in my direction. “I killed you. I know I did. What are you doing back at my house?”

His wife yells from the porch, distracting me momentarily. She’s hysterical and crying. “Why are you reminding them what you did? They’ll kill you. Just get back in the house.”

“Shut up, woman! It’s your fault we’re in this mess in the first place. If you’d just do what you’re told, I wouldn’t have to keep knocking the shit out of you.”

Jameson’s voice rings loud and clear through the small, shabby yard. “Still? Even after me shooting you, you’re talking about beating your wife. What’s wrong with you? Don’t make me do it again.”

“Jameson, what are you talking about?” I yell at my partner. Has my best friend lost his mind? He’s never shot anyone. I hope he never does. I had to kill a suspect in the line of duty last year, and I’ve had nightmares ever since. I’ve never told the shrink the department made me go to, though. I didn’t want to miss any more work. I hated the idea of Jameson out on the streets without me. We always have each other’s back.

Crazy, gun-wielding guy starts waving it around more forcibly. “You know what he’s talking about. It’s your fault I’m dead. And you’re supposed to be dead, too. That’s why I came back, you know? It’s not enough you can’t walk; you have to die.” The man’s face is flushed and sweat pours down his forehead into his eyes. The fury in his voice is alarming. Maybe Jameson’s trying to pacify this guy.

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