Page 73 of Detectives in Love
As soon as they leave, I pull out my phone and text Fred.
Me:Sorry, can’t tonight. Things are still a little crazy.
I lock the screen and let my gaze drift over the toy soldiers scattered across the carpet, but my mind’s elsewhere. Xavier’s been off these past few days. Yeah, his dad just died—but this feels like something else. The way he looks right through me, the edge in his voice, how he shuts down the second I try to get him to talk… It isn’t just grief. It isn’t even anger. I can’t pin it down.
During the day, he’s cold, detached, defensive. At night, he’s vulnerable. The way he asked me to stay last night—like he actually needed me…
I can’t keep up with the whiplash. Last night and this morning I thought we were moving forward—somewhere, at least. Now it feels like we’re sliding right back.
My phone buzzes, yanking me out of my thoughts.
Fred:Maybe we could meet at your place then?
I sigh and shove the phone back into my pocket. Fred. On Hickory Road. Perfect. As if there’sanythingXavier would hate more.
“Is that mister your friend?” a small voice asks.
I look up. The older boy is watching me again, eyes curious.
“Who?” I say, thrown off.
“The serious mister.” He points to Xavier’s seat. “Is he your friend?”
I snort. “Yeah.”
“Is he always like that?”
I snort again. “Pretty much.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “No idea,” I say—then wince, because it’s true.
The boy squints at me, quiet for a second. Then he says, “Maybe he’s got a splinter in his paw.”
I blink. “A splinter?”
He nods. “Like the lion in the story.”
I let out a surprised laugh, shaking my head. “You know what? You might be onto something.”
Right then, Xavier and Mrs. Bridge step back into the room.
“Thank you,” she says, offering me a small smile.
“No problem,” I reply. “You’ve got some smart kids.”
Her smile deepens as she ruffles the older boy’s hair. That’s when Xavier looks over—expression unreadable, gaze fixed on me.
“We can go now.”
I nod, surprised he’s ready to leave so quickly. But judging by the look on his face, Xavier got what he came for.
We say goodbye to Mrs. Bridge and step outside. The warmth of the house vanishes the moment the door clicks shut behind us, biting air rushing in to take its place.
“We need to go home,” Xavier says, straight to the point. “I need to check something.”
“Alright,” I say, crossing my arms against the cold—and the sting still lingering from our fight. “You can go.”
