Page 68 of The Past in the Present

He opened the door slowly, maybe to make sure I was dressed so that he didn’t accidentally cause me to flash anyone who might be outside, I don’t know.

I did manage to stand up by the time he crossed the bathroom so that I could pull him into my arms before I lost any more precious half-seconds not holding him.

I didn’t say anything, but I had seen the bruising on one side of his face, felt the weaker grip of his left arm in comparison to the right, noticed the way he leaned his weight a little more on the right side of his body. I tried not to squeeze him too tightly, although I desperately wanted to.

I knew I was crying—again—but at least I kept the tears mostly under control, managing not to sob hysterically. I did have to swallow a couple times before I could manage to speak. “I love you,” I whispered roughly into his hair. He smelled dusty, like alfalfa hay and oats and the alpaca pellets I’d fed the goats not long ago. The soap he’d last used to shower wasn’t his, either, the scent faintly floral, but not unpleasant. But under all that, I could still smellElliot. Earthy and musky. Familiar.Home.

His right arm tightened a little. “I love you,” he repeated, stressing the last word.

I rested my cheek on his head. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Bruised up,” he answered without letting go. “Some scrapes and scratches from scrambling through the brush.” He pulled back slightly, then brushed some tears from my cheeks. “I can still walk better than you can, though,” he teased.

I snorted. “That would have been true even before I tried to take a header down the mountain.”

He barked out a laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it…”

“You thought it, though,” I told him.

He gave me a little crooked smile. “You’ll never know.”

“I know.”

He stood on his toes and kissed me softly. “I know you do, baby. Now, how about I help you out to the kitchen so we can ice your knee and feed you?”

10

UNKNOWN NUMBER

I’ve never had a burner phone before.

Who should I prank text?

SETH MAYS

You’re ridiculous.

You love me.

Yes, I do.

You’re still ridiculous.

The burner phonehad come courtesy of Helen, who had driven into Staunton on a larger supply run and stopped to get Elliot a cheap phone on Hart’s advice. Elliot’s actual phone was now a charred lump of metal and plastic somewhere in my equally-charred car.

I sighed. I wasn’t looking forward to the process and cost of buying a new car, or of trying to deal with the absolute shitshow that would be the insurance claim. How exactly were you supposed to file a claim for ‘a cop ran my car off the roadand shot it until it caught fire’? I supposed I would find out. It would be nice to have a car that wasn’t continually threatening to fall apart on me, as was the tendency of old cars. This definitely hadn’t been how I wanted to get a new one, though.

Especially since I’d also lost all the equipment that had beeninthe car.

Coolers that we’d used to keep food for the drive. Emergency survival and first aid kits. Extra sweatshirts and towels. A blanket. A fairly large collection of grocery-store tote bags. A full crime scene kit. Probably a bunch of other shit I didn’t remember even having in my car.

I missed you last night.

Elliot Crane

I missed you, too.

Did you get any sleep?

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