Page 133 of Tell No One
“Drooling on it.”
Tag smiled.
Delaney got off the train first and put the bags down on the platform. Tag knew he was ready to catch him, but he didn’t fall.
“Want me to carry something?” Tag asked.
Delaney gave him an incredulous look, picked up everything and Tag followed him. When Delaney realised how far behind Tag was falling, he slowed right down to walk beside him. By the time they’d reached the taxi rank, Tag was shattered.
“Hungry now?” Delaney asked once he’d given the driver a street name.
Tag shook his head. Delaney handed him a bottle of water. “Drink, at least.”
Tag couldn’t even open the top, and had to give it back so Delaney could do it.
“They definitely got everyone, right?” Tag asked. “We’re okay?”
“Yes.”
“Because you know those films where you think it’s all over and then you go to open the door and your worst nightmare’s standing there and the happy ending you thought was coming isn’t going to be very happy after all because there’s a madman with an axe standing in front of you? I don’t want that to happen when we get to your place.”
Tag wasn’t really thinking of one of the bad guys re-emerging. More of Delaney telling him something he didn’t want to hear. Like—well, the danger’s gone. You’ll be fine now. I’ve put money in your bank account. Choose somewhere you’d like to live, then go and be happy.
He wasn’t paying attention to which way they were going and when the taxi stopped, Tag realised he’d not followed one of his cardinal rules. Still, Delaney wasn’t going to hurt him. Not like that, anyway. But when the cab had pulled away, Delaney headed away from the building Tag had thought they’d go into. He slowly trudged after Delaney but once they’d rounded the corner, Delaney took him up some steps and inside a tower block.
“Why didn’t the cab drop us outside here?” Tag asked.
“Sorry, I… Habit.”
Delaney had a top-floor flat with a great view of London. This one didn’t look much like a home either but there was enough stuff around that made Tag think he possibly spent more time here than anywhere else. He saw the line of animals he’d made sitting on the kitchen work surface.
“They need to go back to Ahsan,” Delaney said.
“Not all of them.”
“No, not all. You can have this room.” Delaney took Tag’s backpack through a door.
Tag grabbed the plush otter, hid it under his T-shirt, and followed him.
“If you want anything, shout.” Delaney closed the door on the way out.
That had been an abrupt departure. Tag stared at the door and sighed. Things were not right between them. Maybe they never would be.
Tag stripped with difficulty. Lifting his arms was painful. He checked he still had the squashed bullet in his trouser pocket, then left it there. He washed, cleaned his teeth and climbed into bed with the otter, clutching it tightly. The weird thing was that out of everything that had happened that day, he was more amazed by Delaney buying him the soft toy than he was anything else. The running and getting shot felt as though it had been happening to a different person.
He lay on his side because the doctor had said that would be the most comfortable way to sleep, and make it easier to breathe. He guessed Delaney hadn’t invited him into his bed because he was injured, but Delaney could have asked. He was bound to have a big bed. There’d be plenty of room. They didn’t need to do anything. Just being next to him would have been enough. But he hadn’t asked. Hadn’t kissed him. Hadn’t said that much to him beyond what had happened that day.
Tag closed his eyes. His chest hurt but not only because he’d been shot.
A couple of times he was aware of Delaney coming to the room, filling his water glass, checking he was all right. Tag never opened his eyes. Maybe the whispered, “I love you” was just in his dreams.
20
Two weeks later
Tag was still sleeping in the spare room. He’d tried to share Delaney’s bed but Delaney had just got out and come into this room, and when Tag followed, he’d returned to his own. A never-ending game of musical beds. And Tag understood, he did, but he couldn’t help but think there was more to it than Delaney being cautious about hurting him.
In any case, Tag was feeling much better. Yeah, he still hurt sometimes, but he was mobile again, no wincing when he lifted his arms. Well, notmuchwincing. Delaney told him two hundred thousand pounds had been put into his bank account. Tag didn’t ask who’d given him the money. He hoped by not asking he showed he didn’t care about it.
