Better out here than in there. I had a vision of Andy stuffing a pillow over my face. Or Detective Myers cuffing me to the bed again and helping him. I rubbed my forehead tiredly. Okay, maybe I wasn’t one hundred percent rational at the moment, but I knew one thing. I didn’t hesitate to share that thing with Gray.
“I’m not going back,” I announced.
I walked faster. He sped up, and I did, too, because my befuddled brain thought it was entirely possible to outwalk a car. I huffed and puffed along, secure in the knowledge that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it…until he made a sudden right and cut off the whole damn sidewalk. A puddle of rain/mud slush flew up and drenched me from the waist down.
“That’s fucking fantastic,” I said.
“Get in,” he said, stubborn as a mule.
I shook the water off like a dog. “I didn’t do anything,” I said, frustratedly.
“I know that.”
“If I didn’t do anything, then what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that I’m a doctor.”
“Congratulations. You must be very proud.”
“I am, actually. My point is that I’m pretty sure I took some sort of oath to heal. I’m not leaving you out here to freeze.” I didn’t have a ready response to that, and he took advantage of my silence, pressing on. “Get in,” he said, softer this time. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”
“You still owe me a Heath bar,” I finally said, swiping my hands through my rain-slicked hair. I tried to squeeze the water out of the ends a bit, but it was a lost cause.
He smiled, and the beauty of it nearly buckled my knees. “I’ll make good on that. But right now, you have to get in the car.”
I wanted to hem and haw some more, but really, who was I fooling? I had nowhere to go and no one to take me there. I also had no money, no clothes, no food, and oh yeah, no plan. I opened the car door and got in. It was a relief to shut out the rain and the cold and the street noise, even though his car’s pristine interior made me feel more unkempt than ever. At least the leather was black.
I winced. “I’m getting your car dirty. And wet.”
“It’s fine.”
Of course he would say that. Of course Mr. Perfect Doctor with his perfect car would be perfectly nice about me dirtying up his ride. If he was any more generous, he’d give me the shirt off his back…and I wasn’t being proverbial. I needed that fucking shirt. Judging from his next question, he thought so, too.
“Where the hell did you get those clothes?” He gave me a quick onceover as he backed off the sidewalk. “They’re barely hanging on.”
I didn’t answer, too busy pressing buttons on his console to increase the heat. He nudged my hand away and pressed a button. Warm air suddenly blasted out of the vents. I barely kept from clapping excitedly like a seal waiting for fish. I put my hands in front of one of the vents like it was a roaring fire—the feeling was already coming back into my chilled digits. Gray pressed another button, and the seat warmer came on.
We were quiet as he drove. The patter of rain outside made the car feel like a cocoon. Just the two of us alone in the world. I wasn’t sure if that was good or uncomfortable as hell. Especially given what we’d learned about our breakup earlier. Gray broke the silence first.
“Why did you run out on Andy?” Apparently, he was thinking about the unspeakable, too.
“Did he particularly look like an Andy to you?”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I don’t just believe everything I hear. Do you?”
That was kind of rhetorical. Gray’s default was set to trust. It was something we’d argued about over the years. Of course, that was before I’d cheated my ass off. Guess I’d decided to teach him the hard way that trust was bad.
“You told me you were looking for answers,” he said calmly. “Your partner shows up with some of those answers, and you decide to run away. Please explain the logic of that to me.”
“Is that your wordy way of saying I’m crazy?”
“Well, I’ll just say you left a lot of people confused back there. Last I heard, your night nurse was muttering, Make it make sense, Jesus.”
I barked out a laugh. I’d thought I was a little beyond humor at the moment, but I guess I was wrong. “I don’t think... no, I know Andy isn’t my partner.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know.”
“How?”
“I just do.”
“How?” Gray asked, his voice rife with frustration.
Because I don’t feel nearly as much for him as I feel for you. I bit my lip and looked off silently. I wasn’t ready to go all Sommersby on him just yet. Not when he’d probably just throw my words right back in my face, and it would be well-deserved.
“Look, from what I remember about my life, I was a man who relied on my instincts,” I said. “I’m not about to stop listening to myself now.”
“If you think he’s a danger to you, I can take you to the police station. They’ll protect you.”
“If that’s why you came after me, then you can just pull over now.”
“Don’t be so fucking dramatic.”
“You know me,” I said lightly.
“I thought I did.”
Touché. I didn’t take offense at his slightly bitter tone. I more than acknowledged that whatever I’d been up to, I hadn’t been completely upfront with Gray about it.
“So.” He let out a long sigh. “Where to?”
I was grateful for the change in topic, but I didn’t have an answer for that either. I frowned down at my hands for a few moments before I finally said, “The nearest bus station.”
I could get out of the elements and wait out the rain for free, and there was probably a bathroom there as well. And when I finally figured out a plan, transportation would be a cinch. My stomach clenched at the thought of asking to bum a couple of bucks off Gray, but I didn’t have a choice.
“I know it’s a big ask after everything else you’ve done for me, but could I borrow twenty bucks?” I asked.
He sighed. “I can’t believe I’m even contemplating this.”
“It’s just twenty bucks. I’ll take ten, even.”
Gray ignored me as he ran a hand through his hair, muttering, “I feel like I don’t even know who you are anymore. Hell, you don’t even know who you are. How can I be contemplating taking you home with me?”
He was cute, which would look good in his obituary…seeing as how he was also way too trusting. “We both know I was hiding something from you even when we were together,” I said flatly. “And who knows what I’ve been up to since I left.”
He sent me a look. “Just so you know, that’s not how you plead your case.”
“You don’t have to do this.” I sighed, suddenly tired beyond belief. The adrenaline that had fueled my escape had completely worn off. My interest in my situation was fading fast, too. I needed a nice, cozy bench and a guard willing to leave me the hell alone until morning.
“I kind of do.” He didn’t meet my gaze as he spoke again. “I’m not going to be able to sleep without knowing where you are. And that you’re safe.”