The Operator
Page 78
“And yes, I just walked out along with the rest of the firemen,” Silas finished, his hand in his pants pocket now. “Allen is probably in a cell, but he can’t run with that busted knee.”
“It never really healed, did it,” she said softly as she dug deeper to the bottom of the satchel past bottles of over-the-counter meds to find the smooth feel of her phone. “Thank you,” she added, relieved that Harmony wasn’t angry with her. “For everything.” She wiggled her phone in explanation before tucking it away in a pocket. Cam had called again.
“It’s clean,” Silas said as if Jack might argue.
From the table, Jack grumbled, “You’re going to bring them right to her.”
“He is not.” Peri’s gaze shifted between the two men, seeing more than casual trouble brewing when Silas lifted a shoulder and let it drop, anger in the slant of his eyes.
“I can get you through the withdrawal,” Silas said. “You’ve only had two doses.”
Jack scoffed, picking at a flake of laminate on the table. “You really think she’d leave without a source of Evocane already in place?”
“She is not going back to Bill,” Silas said firmly.
“Not Bill,” Peri said, wondering whether there was time for another shower now that Silas could watch Jack. “LB.”
“Who is LB?” Silas asked warily.
“The punk who owns the arena,” Jack said, He touched his forehead with a finger, then pointed it at Peri as if they were thinking the same thoughts. “I thought you might leave him one. Good thinking, Peri.”
Like I had a choice? Peri stifled a frown, not wanting to talk about LB in front of Jack. But then again, he’d probably figure it out on his own when she dumped Jack there on the way out. “He’s a feral drafter,” Peri said softly, and both Silas and Jack jerked.
“He’s a what?” Jack exclaimed, his shock too real to be faked.
“A feral drafter,” Silas said clearly excited. “In Detroit? Like five minutes from here? Does he know? Does Steiner know?”
Peri couldn’t help her smile as she shook her head. “I gave LB the down-and-dirty of it. I gave him your number, too. He might call when his curiosity gets the better of him. I told him the Evocane is worthless without the accelerator to make it all work, but he’ll probably shoot up with it and get himself hooked anyway.”
Silas’s expression suddenly dimmed. “You don’t need me at all.”
Jack chuckled. “No, we don’t, little professor.”
“Shut up, Jack,” Peri said, wishing she didn’t have to deal with this right now. Seeing Silas standing before her, still in his coat and scarf, that same broken look on his face she had read about in her diary, gave her a headache, as if something was trying to come back. Disjointed memories that Allen had burned to ash flickered at the edges of her soul, filling her with a need to respond, but not answering why. Within her mind, there was Silas, and her, and a growing feeling that she was being remiss, intentionally keeping herself blind so she could remain safe and alone. But she didn’t want to be alone anymore.
Throat closing, she turned away, her focus blurring on the satchel he’d brought. It wasn’t just clothes and her phone, but his desire to help her made real. And here she was, not only having voluntarily erased the memories of their love but intentionally keeping herself oblivious to any chance of recall. Had it been worth it? She didn’t think so anymore.
Taking a resolute breath, Peri touched the clothes, knowing he’d brought them in the belief that he was useless. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, voice low so it wouldn’t break. “I don’t want to go through withdrawal alone. Thank you.”
Silas’s hands relaxed and his shoulders eased. He glanced at the warming water and then came forward. “You’re limping.”
Immediately she put her foot up on the low table and pulled the torn slacks up over it.
“I looked at it last night,” Jack said from the kitchen. “It’s fine.”
The couch slid her into Silas when he sat beside her, and she stayed where she was, feeling his warmth against her, trying to recall why it felt so right—but there was nothing.
“When did you get shot?” he asked, brows furrowing.
“I didn’t. At least I don’t think I did. There’s no bullet,” she said, then caught her breath when Silas carefully lifted the tape and it pulled. “Ow?”
“Have you put anything on it?” His eyes flicked up, his worry obvious.
“Just an antibiotic. It’s not warm, so it’s probably not infected.”
“I told you I looked at it last night,” Jack said, ignored.
Silas pulled the bandage back into place, using the old tape to fix it back down. “I brought some stuff, but nothing for infection. We can stop at a pharmacy. I need to pick up a few things, anyway.” His tone caught her intuition, and her eyes jerked to his. Shrugging, he added, “I want to try weaning you off it. Tonight. The more you take, the harder it is.”
Peri glanced at the atomic clock on the shelf, understanding. “We can stop on the way to LB’s,” she said, her ire flashing into existence when Jack cleared his throat in protest. “I want to pick up his vial of Evocane.” Fear tightened her gut, fear she might not be able to kick it. “It would probably be easier to wean me off it if you had some.”
“You’re not ditching me, Peri,” Jack threatened as he tugged his sleeves down and fastened the cuffs. “You’re going to need someone experienced to bring in Michael. Denier is a couch warrior, a bloody psychologist, and you are his latest pet project.”
Silas stood, slipping out from under Peri’s soothing hand. “If you don’t shut up, I will pop you in the mouth, Twill.”
“Try it, big man,” Jack taunted. “You will only get her dead.” Jack stood from the kitchen table, his motion smooth as he put his suit coat on. It made him look more polished, even if it was dirty and torn. “I bet you can’t run a mile without puking.”
Peri rubbed her temple. No wonder her head hurt.
Silas ran a hand over his hair and turned to her. “Why is he still alive?”
“He made me breakfast. I was waiting to kill him until he finished the dishes.”
“It never really healed, did it,” she said softly as she dug deeper to the bottom of the satchel past bottles of over-the-counter meds to find the smooth feel of her phone. “Thank you,” she added, relieved that Harmony wasn’t angry with her. “For everything.” She wiggled her phone in explanation before tucking it away in a pocket. Cam had called again.
“It’s clean,” Silas said as if Jack might argue.
From the table, Jack grumbled, “You’re going to bring them right to her.”
“He is not.” Peri’s gaze shifted between the two men, seeing more than casual trouble brewing when Silas lifted a shoulder and let it drop, anger in the slant of his eyes.
“I can get you through the withdrawal,” Silas said. “You’ve only had two doses.”
Jack scoffed, picking at a flake of laminate on the table. “You really think she’d leave without a source of Evocane already in place?”
“She is not going back to Bill,” Silas said firmly.
“Not Bill,” Peri said, wondering whether there was time for another shower now that Silas could watch Jack. “LB.”
“Who is LB?” Silas asked warily.
“The punk who owns the arena,” Jack said, He touched his forehead with a finger, then pointed it at Peri as if they were thinking the same thoughts. “I thought you might leave him one. Good thinking, Peri.”
Like I had a choice? Peri stifled a frown, not wanting to talk about LB in front of Jack. But then again, he’d probably figure it out on his own when she dumped Jack there on the way out. “He’s a feral drafter,” Peri said softly, and both Silas and Jack jerked.
“He’s a what?” Jack exclaimed, his shock too real to be faked.
“A feral drafter,” Silas said clearly excited. “In Detroit? Like five minutes from here? Does he know? Does Steiner know?”
Peri couldn’t help her smile as she shook her head. “I gave LB the down-and-dirty of it. I gave him your number, too. He might call when his curiosity gets the better of him. I told him the Evocane is worthless without the accelerator to make it all work, but he’ll probably shoot up with it and get himself hooked anyway.”
Silas’s expression suddenly dimmed. “You don’t need me at all.”
Jack chuckled. “No, we don’t, little professor.”
“Shut up, Jack,” Peri said, wishing she didn’t have to deal with this right now. Seeing Silas standing before her, still in his coat and scarf, that same broken look on his face she had read about in her diary, gave her a headache, as if something was trying to come back. Disjointed memories that Allen had burned to ash flickered at the edges of her soul, filling her with a need to respond, but not answering why. Within her mind, there was Silas, and her, and a growing feeling that she was being remiss, intentionally keeping herself blind so she could remain safe and alone. But she didn’t want to be alone anymore.
Throat closing, she turned away, her focus blurring on the satchel he’d brought. It wasn’t just clothes and her phone, but his desire to help her made real. And here she was, not only having voluntarily erased the memories of their love but intentionally keeping herself oblivious to any chance of recall. Had it been worth it? She didn’t think so anymore.
Taking a resolute breath, Peri touched the clothes, knowing he’d brought them in the belief that he was useless. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, voice low so it wouldn’t break. “I don’t want to go through withdrawal alone. Thank you.”
Silas’s hands relaxed and his shoulders eased. He glanced at the warming water and then came forward. “You’re limping.”
Immediately she put her foot up on the low table and pulled the torn slacks up over it.
“I looked at it last night,” Jack said from the kitchen. “It’s fine.”
The couch slid her into Silas when he sat beside her, and she stayed where she was, feeling his warmth against her, trying to recall why it felt so right—but there was nothing.
“When did you get shot?” he asked, brows furrowing.
“I didn’t. At least I don’t think I did. There’s no bullet,” she said, then caught her breath when Silas carefully lifted the tape and it pulled. “Ow?”
“Have you put anything on it?” His eyes flicked up, his worry obvious.
“Just an antibiotic. It’s not warm, so it’s probably not infected.”
“I told you I looked at it last night,” Jack said, ignored.
Silas pulled the bandage back into place, using the old tape to fix it back down. “I brought some stuff, but nothing for infection. We can stop at a pharmacy. I need to pick up a few things, anyway.” His tone caught her intuition, and her eyes jerked to his. Shrugging, he added, “I want to try weaning you off it. Tonight. The more you take, the harder it is.”
Peri glanced at the atomic clock on the shelf, understanding. “We can stop on the way to LB’s,” she said, her ire flashing into existence when Jack cleared his throat in protest. “I want to pick up his vial of Evocane.” Fear tightened her gut, fear she might not be able to kick it. “It would probably be easier to wean me off it if you had some.”
“You’re not ditching me, Peri,” Jack threatened as he tugged his sleeves down and fastened the cuffs. “You’re going to need someone experienced to bring in Michael. Denier is a couch warrior, a bloody psychologist, and you are his latest pet project.”
Silas stood, slipping out from under Peri’s soothing hand. “If you don’t shut up, I will pop you in the mouth, Twill.”
“Try it, big man,” Jack taunted. “You will only get her dead.” Jack stood from the kitchen table, his motion smooth as he put his suit coat on. It made him look more polished, even if it was dirty and torn. “I bet you can’t run a mile without puking.”
Peri rubbed her temple. No wonder her head hurt.
Silas ran a hand over his hair and turned to her. “Why is he still alive?”
“He made me breakfast. I was waiting to kill him until he finished the dishes.”
