Page 25 of Burn It Down

In Garnett... it’s easier to slow down a little bit.

I have breakfast with Elijah on the days I take him to school, and I talk to him on the short ride. He seems a little more open about my job lately—definitely less on edge—and the nightmares have waned considerably.

I also can’t lie and say that a certain someone hasn’t been on my mind all week. It’s strange, but letting myself admit out loud how obsessed I was with him once, it’s opened up a lot of floodgates for me.

Things I pushed down in the past for fear of being outed. And I don’t mean my sexuality—not really, though I guess that fear was there too. That part I was talking about with Spencer—I played it well. I was the popular guy in school—neverhad a problem with anyone. Got along with everyone. Had the beautiful girlfriend who wasn’t exactly the Barbie type, but that didn’t mean every guy in our class wasn’t envious of our relationship. Megan was gorgeous—just not really bubbly.

In a lot of ways, she was a lot like Spencer. Fearless. Although I guess Spencer wasn’t as fearless as I thought. Pain sears through me when I think about him admitting what my so-called friends did to him.

I had no idea. None. Because I was too busy playing my part in high school. But it felt like progress when he agreed to meet me tonight, and I’m not going to squander it.

I stretch—the couch starting to get a little old—but Elijah has his own bedroom, and that’s really all that matters. I decide to go make coffee before he wakes up and start the day for both of us. I love the kid, but I don’t know where the hell he gets all that energy. I still haven’t been able to convince him that Saturdays are for sleeping in.

I hear a door open and assume it’s my son, but I’m taken aback when a woman with dark red hair and no pants on walks into the kitchen. Pretty sure she’s wearing Bowen’s shirt, and her makeup is all smudged.

It takes her a moment to realize I’m there—looking at me through sleepy eyes. “You’re not the guy I was with last night.” She doesn’t sound totally sure though.

Nice, Bowen.

I manage to stop my eyes from rolling. “No. I’m his brother.” I hear someone else in the hallway, and I rush to grab a blanket off the chair in the living room and wrap it around her shoulders just as Elijah rounds the corner.

His hair is all rumpled from sleep, and he’s rubbing his eyes as he notices the stranger. “Who are you?”

“Oh my God. You’re the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.” The woman barely holds onto the blanket and kneels down way tooclose to my son. Call me overprotective, but I’ve been careful what I’ve exposed my son to, and strange people in his house aren’t usually it.

“Elijah, why don’t you use the bathroom, and I’ll get breakfast ready, okay?”

He looks at the woman and then at me, his nose all scrunched up, but he doesn’t fight me. Shrugging his shoulders, he leaves, and the woman stands up. “Relax. I love kids. I’m a nurse.”

“That’s great. Mind putting some pants on before you talk to my kid?” I shouldn’t be rude to her since this isn’t my house, but I can’t help being a little annoyed. Elijah’s room is awfully close to Bowen’s, and how the hell didn’t I hear them come in last night when I was asleep on the couch?

I must have been really out of it.

“No need to be a dick.” She glares at me, letting the blanket fall and swaying her hips on her way down the hall. I pick up the blanket and head into the kitchen, not at all unhappy when I hear the front door open and then close a few minutes later.

Not like she was a love match for Bowen, so I doubt he’ll be that angry with me for chasing his hookup away.

Bowen and Elijah come into the kitchen around the same time—looking pretty damn related at the moment, with matching messy hair and sleep in their eyes. “Heard you’re not in a great mood today,” Bowen says, grabbing a piece of cereal from Elijah’s bowl before I place it on the table in front of my son.

Elijah grabs his tablet and puts his headphones on, not interested in our conversation, but I still gesture for Bowen to move further away from him over by the coffee maker. “Look, I know this is your house and I don’t have any right to tell you what to do, but a half-naked woman he doesn’t know chatting him up first thing in the morning... Do you really think that’s good for him?”

Bowen looks back over his shoulder at Elijah—who doesn’t seem to have a care in the world at the moment and is laughing at something on his tablet—before his eyes meet mine again. “He seems to be okay.”

“Bowen,” I scold, and he sighs.

“Sorry. I wasn’t really thinking.” He sits down at the island bar and runs his hand through his hair. He looks worse than hungover, like I’d initially thought. He looks a little broken and worn this morning.

“Hey, you okay?”

His eyes lift and meet mine. “Rough call.”

“You weren’t on duty last night. I was.”

He nods grimly. “Day before. Found out the guy I worked really damn hard to get out of a smashed-up car died. Pissed me off because that was fucking rude after all that time I spent.”

He’s joking—but he’s not really. It hits differently every single time, I swear. When we lose someone. “I’m sorry.” It doesn’t help. I know that, but I offer my condolences anyway.

“Yeah. Anyway, after you got home last night, I thought I could go let off a little steam.”

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