Page 46 of Not Quite Dead Yet

‘Sorry, sorry. Oh god.’

‘Are you going to faint, Billy?’

‘Not if I can help it. There. Done.’

He lifted the bandage away, the air cool against the exposed back of her head. Too cool.

‘Did they shave my head, Billy?’

‘Um,’ he answered. ‘It’s … it’s not your best angle. Bit crusty. Little bit bald. Let’s get this covered up, nice and clean.’

The sound of ripping plastic behind her ears.

‘Here we go. I’m just going to place this on, very carefully, then tape it down. OK?’

Jet waited for him to get close. Closer.

‘AH!’ she cried suddenly, making Billy jump out of his skin, falling back into it and off his knees.

‘Jet, that’s not funny!’

She cackled, deep and gravelly. Because it was, actually. And so was the look on his face.

‘Don’t do that again.’

Jet turned off the bathroom light, closed the door behind her as she stepped into the darkened living room.

Billy was already tucked up on the sofa, his head against one of the patterned cushions, using the matching throw as a blanket. It wasn’t long enough, and neither was the sofa, Billy’s bare feet dangling over the end. Eyes glowing as they watched her approach.

‘I’m done in there now, thanks for the toothpaste,’ she said.

‘No problem.’

Jet picked her way past the sofa, toward the bedroom, the small lamp glowing inside. She hesitated, turned back.

‘You can come with me,’ she said to the darkness. ‘In the morning, to talk to Owen Clay. If you want?’

Only because she knew Billy wanted to. Then at least shedidn’t have to worry about him worrying, or hear about it after.

‘I’ll be there,’ his voice found her, across the dark room.

Jet slipped inside the bedroom, the bed ready and made, a glass of water on the nightstand that Billy must have just put there.

‘Night, Jet.’

‘Night, Billy.’

Tuesday

November 4

11

Jet pressed the doorbell, holding on just longer than was polite.

Number 19, Pleasant Street.Pleasantwas the right word: a big house with yellow wooden siding and sleek gray shutters. This must have been a Mason Construction project; it had that look.

Jet reached for the bell again.

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