Page 180 of Death is Familiar

The slope of his nose.

His five o’clock shadow.

His split and swollen lip.

My stomach involuntarily fluttered. Aside from the injuries bestowed on him by Todd, Jack Hessinger was a remarkably flawless human being.

Ahem-hem.

Todd’s movements rustled from the seat beside me. A gentle breeze licked through the open window, and Jack's eyelids fluttered shut.

“Ah, you blinked. I win!”

Jack ran a palm down his face. “Oh my god. You couldn’t even pretend to take this seriously?”

“Not at three in the morning.”

I flashed a smile. Both Jack and Todd groaned.

“I am starting to feel like a fourth wheel over here, Hess,” Fawzy called, leaning against a vehicle at the opposite end of the parking lot. “Unless you are driving up with Galt and James, I suggest we get a move on.”

Jack sighed. “Maybe, I should⁠—”

“Go. We’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I offered.

“Todd?”

“I’m sure. We’ll regroup at your place.”

Jack mashed his lips together, like he wanted to fight against Todd’s assurances. Instead, Jack stood, straightening his dress shirt.

“Unfortunately, I know better than to tell either of you to be good. So,” Jack tapped the roof of the car twice, “safe travels, and I’ll see you soon.”

Rolling up the windows, I pulled out of the driveway, gaze flickering to the rear-view mirror to watch Jack cross the parking lot to join Fawzy. I didn’t put it past him or Fawzy to trail us, and right now we needed some space.

Taking a circuitous route, navigating the side streets, and spying a number of elaborate Halloween decorations in the process, we eventually merged onto the freeway.

With Tarrytown behind us, I lowered my defenses, releasing the tight-fisted hold I’d maintained on my feelings. Guilt and shame immediately ate away at my insides.

I was a terrible person.

When I’d seen Todd’s pill bottle for carbamazepine at the motel after we first met, I’d figured his seizures were bad enough to warrant medication, but I hadn’t anticipated something of this magnitude. If anything, I thought it would slow him down a little. Maybe make him easier to tire.

“You can sleep, if you want.” The moments between Todd’s blinks grew far and few between. He had to be exhausted. “I’ve got it from here.”

“I don’t need to sleep.” His movements were long and drawn out. “I just need to rest my eyes.”

Slowly, but surely, under the incandescent lights of the freeway, Todd fell asleep.

†

Sometime later, Todd stirred. His eyes blinked into focus, trying to make sense of his surroundings. We’d been in the car long enough for the sun to rise. Sunlight dappled the dashboard as we sped through the countryside.

“Morning, sunshine. How are you feeling?”