Page 4 of Cover Up

He sat back with a sigh, covering his face with one hand until he felt something wet poking his ear. He sat up and shoved at Sofia, who cackled.

“Wet Willy!”

“Fuck me,” he muttered. “What’s your address, Sofia?”

“Fuck knows.”

His lips thinned, and his headache was putting him at the very edge of his patience. He hadn’t been through stress like this in way too long, and he was terrified he was going to start seizing. He didn’t feel any warning signs, but the one that had taken him out had crept up on him too.

He took a few slow breaths.

“Sofia. Where do you live? I’m not taking you home with me, and you need to get somewhere safe.”

She scoffed. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “Just call my brother. He knows his stupid address.”

“Who’s your brother?” Felix pressed. “Is he in your phone?”

Sofia stared at him, then burst into laughter before slumping against the door and closing her eyes.

Felix wanted to scream or maybe cry. He hadn’t signed up for this, and he definitely wasn’t taking her home. Now that he was close to her, he could see her arms were covered in sores, and she smelled like she hadn’t seen the inside of a shower in months.

“Just, uh…keep going,” he told the driver. At the very least, he could set her up in his driveway until she sobered up enough to tell him who her brother was.

The guy shrugged and said nothing, likely pissed as hell, and Felix couldn’t blame him. This wasn’t how he pictured his night going either. Jeremiah seriously goddamn owed him.

“Hey!” Sofia shouted, sitting up suddenly and smacking her forehead on the window so hard it made Felix wince. “I don’t live here. Are you trying to human traffic me?”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose as the car rolled to a stop in front of his place, and he quickly opened the door. “Uh. Keep my contact info if you need me to talk to anyone about the guy who punched your car. And sorry about this. Also…thanks.”

The guy said nothing, but he gave a single, sharp nod and waited for Felix to drag Sofia out. He was gone before Felix registered the door slamming shut, which was just as well. He didn’t want to do this alone, but he sure as hell didn’t want to involve some stranger.

“I think I live here,” Sophia said after a beat.

Felix blinked at her. “Are you serious?”

She laughed. “Yeah, fucker. Fifty-eight oh eight, Coral…something. Cora something?”

Coral Avenue—where he lived. They were neighbors? Fuck his life.

Under the dim streetlamp, Felix stared at the ascending addresses, counting them off before spotting what had to be her house.

He hoped. He’d feel like shit if he dropped her on some neighbor’s door, but he was pretty sure her drugged-out mind wasn’t making this up. The only thing that would make life easier was if Felix could remember who lived where on his street.

But thanks to his busted brain, the most he could do was read the numbers painted on mailboxes and hope the person who answered the door didn’t want to punch him in the face for disturbing their peace.

His temples started to throb, and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to lose his words soon.

“Come on,” Felix said, and he led the way to 5808. There was a nice yard and a single porch light, but it didn’t look like anyone was home. “That guy who hit you doesn’t live here, does he?”

“Who? Clark? Fuuuuck no,” she drawled, then tripped over her feet, catching herself on Felix’s arm. She grinned, then laughed. “Hey! Wanna fuck?”

Felix carefully pried her hand off him. “No, thank you.” He kept a single pace in front of her, and he was grateful she didn’t try to run. “Is your brother home?”

“Yeah.” She laughed so hard she almost fell over. “Dickhead’s always home.”

Felix said a small prayer that the guy wasn’t an actual dickhead as he pushed the bell and waited. He’d had enough bullshit for the night.

It took a while, but eventually, he heard a rhythmic stomping sound, and his gut started to twist until the door opened. He gazed into a face he had a feeling he should know—the way everyone looked, like a word stuck on the tip of his tongue.

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