Page 9 of Cover Up

“Don’t. It wasn’t like that,” Felix protested. He was too weak, and his lack of filter gave him away if he was pressed for even a second. Luckily, Max was kind enough not to take advantage.

“We’ll talk later, yeah?” He took a few steps backward and headed for the door. “If you see that dickhead again, though, let me know. I’d like to help take care of this shit.”

Felix snorted and waved him off. “Okay, Batman.”

Max grinned and flipped him off, then bounced out the door.

A minute later, Felix heard the sound of his bike, and then he was wrapped in silence again. His heartbeat was racing a mile a minute, but as the quiet room wrapped around him, he started to breathe a little easier. He grabbed his sketch pad and went back to his drawing and lost time until his alarm sounded.

Felix’s entire life was now defined by his phone alarms, Post-it notes everywhere, and a little pocket notebook with details about all of his friends in case his memory completely lapsed and he couldn’t recognize anyone. His physical therapist and his neurologist told him that was very unlikely unless he had another Incident, but Felix lived in constant fear of losing it all.

Pushing up from the sofa, he hopped in the shower, then spent a little extra time on his hair. He told himself it had nothing to do at all with hoping he’d run into Dei, but he was terrible at lying to himself.

He stared at his face in the mirror, none of it ever familiar, and he pulled his lower lids down.

Objectively, he thought he was pretty good-looking. He had light hair, a five-o’clock shadow that never went away, sharp cheekbones, and a good, solid nose. He had a scar under his lower lip from when it had been pierced, which used to hold a massive spike.

He was halfway to putting his boots on when there was a knock at his door, and he trudged over, opening it to find a red beaded bracelet shoved in his face. Paris was gruff and straightforward, and Felix appreciated that about him.

“Max said you need a ride.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Your brother’s a meddling dick.”

Paris’s mouth curved into a rare smile. “Yeah. Trust me, I tried to cook it out of him when he was a kid, but he’s stubborn. Anyway, I’m heading in, so you might as well tag along.”

Paris never made him feel like a burden, and he didn’t ever make him feel like he was running low on favors. He was easy to get along with, and sharing property with him and Ben was one of the best things that had happened to Felix since moving to Key Largo and attempting to regain his independence.

They were there on bad nights when his brain was like a big ball of static electricity. They were there when he had small seizures and couldn’t get his legs to move right for long minutes afterward. And they were there for good nights when he was feeling more like himself and just wanted someone to share that with.

“So,” Paris said when they hit the road, and Felix startled because he wasn’t used to him making small talk. “Max told me about Dei’s sister.”

Felix groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s going to kill me.”

“Max?”

“Dei. I shouldn’t have said anything, and Max can’t keep his damn mouth shut.”

Paris choked on a laugh. “Yeah. He’s like a one-person knitting circle. Just tell Dei he’s like some Southern granny. He’ll get it.”

Felix smiled, but he felt like shit for not being able to keep it to himself. It hadn’t been on purpose, but he knew the last thing Dei needed was their whole community knowing his drama with Sofia and the whack-a-doo, abusive asshole who needed to be thrown into an abyss.

“What did he tell you?” Felix asked. He wanted to know how much damage control he needed to do.

Paris’s jaw clenched the way it did when he was holding back anger. “About how that guy needs to learn why it’s not cool to put his fuckin’ hands on his partner.”

Felix bowed his head and nodded. “The whole thing was so fucked. I should have stayed and beat the fuck out of him.”

“What?” Paris asked. “Dude, fuck that. You got her out of there, which was the only thing that mattered. Let other people take care of that mess. It ain’t your fuckin’ circus.”

Felix shrugged, and while he agreed with Paris, he felt…different about it. Maybe because of Dei. Or maybe because he always felt so goddamn useless, and it was the first time in a long time he’d been able to do something besides just stand there like an impotent tool.

When they got to the shop, Felix braced himself for a barrage of questions. But instead—once he was able to pinpoint who was who—he found Zeke, Amelia, Raf, and Jamie all sitting around the lobby table playing Clue. Zeke looked like he was on the verge of doing a murder while Amelia was smiling to herself, and Raf and Jamie were clearly working on their poker faces.

“This is the shit you want us to come in early for?” Paris asked, dropping onto the couch and kicking his foot up on the table next to Jamie.

“You’re just saying that because you’re always a poor fuckin’ loser,” Zeke said with a small sniff, then finally shook his hand and rolled the dice. “Mother fucking fuck,” he said as he stopped halfway between rooms.

“You were saying?” Paris asked.

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