Page 48 of Sebastian

“Hold on for a moment. Newt, is what he said true? Has your roommate been dropping by regularly?” Sebastian asked.

There was no reason for me to be nervous. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but with so many people’s attention on me demanding answers, I could help but fidget on the spot.

“I mean, yeah, he has. Between work and taking care of you, I haven’t had time to go home, so he’s been bringing me fresh clothes and stuff like that. I always met him outside. That’s why you haven’t seen him until now.”

“Exactly.” With the gun no longer pointed at him, Frankie tried to step forward but Agent Long shoved him back against the wall. “I was worried when I hadn’t heard from Newt in a few days. This is normally when I’d stop by, so I wanted to check in on him.”

With a heavy sigh, Agent Long finally stored his gun back in its holster. “You’re an idiot,” he snapped, his brows furrowed.

Now that his life wasn’t being threatened, Frankie’s attitude immediately returned. His hands planted on his hips, and he glared up at the agent. “Excuse me?”

“Your friend was nearly killed just for associating with Sebastian Roth. If you’ve been showing up here regularly, you might be a target now as well.”

“Whoa, hold up. Go back. Someone tried to kill Newt?” Immediately forgetting about Agent Long, Frankie ran to my side and gripped my hands in his own. “Is that true? Why didn’t you tell me?” His face mirrored the concern in his voice.

I gripped him back and our cupped hands created a vague yin-yang symbol of contrasts. “The agents said not to talk about it with anyone else. Plus, I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, I’m definitely worried now,” Frankie quipped.

Agent Long gripped Frankie by the shoulder and pushed him toward the staircase. “You should be more than just worried. Get upstairs. You’re staying here for now until we can figure out if you’re in danger.”

Frankie had never been the type of person to obey orders, especially not ones delivered so rudely. He immediately spun around and pointed a finger in Agent Long’s face. “Oh, no. You can’t just boss me around because you have a gun and a badge. I have a job to do. My patients are expecting me.”

Agent Long’s gray eyes narrowed behind his glasses, but I couldn’t tell if he was upset, suspicious, or something else entirely. Every expression on his face was equally sharp, but this one looked different than any other emotion he had shown so far.

“You have no idea the danger you’ve stumbled into. It’s either your job or your life. Take your pick.”

With a huff, Frankie tossed a wayward braid back over his shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay here. For now. But I’m going to need some stuff. I didn’t come prepared for a sleepover.”

“Make a list of what you need, and I’ll send some people over to your place to retrieve it. Now get upstairs. There’re too many windows in this office. It’s not as safe down here.”

Between Frankie and I, we were able to get Sebastian back upstairs in a reasonable time. I expected Agent Long to stay downstairs, where he’d spent most of his time since he’d become our bodyguard, but he followed us up to the apartment.

Despite all the times Frankie had come over to bring me things, he’d never actually seen the inside of the apartment. I’d described it to him, but I could tell the sight of the workout equipment and sparring mat taking up most of the living space still caught him by surprise.

“Well, at least there’s plenty of equipment for us to use. All right, we may as well get started now.”

After living with Frankie for so long, I knew exactly what he was talking about, but the others were obviously confused.

“Get started with what?” Sebastian asked as he set his crutch aside and started to lower himself into a chair.

I caught his arm before he could sit all the way down. He’d only have to get up again.

Frankie clapped his hands together and gestured at the workout equipment spread over the apartment. “Your assessment. I am a physical therapist, after all. Newt wanted my help with your recovery, so you’re going to get it. Plus, while I’m walking you through some basic exercises, you can explain to me what exactly is going on and who tried to kill my roommate.”

It was a lot to explain and took nearly half an hour to summarize properly. During that time, Frankie did exactly as he promised and guided Sebastian through a specialized workout routine. Most of the exercises featured slow stretching movements and isolations that worked one muscle at a time.

I rarely got to see this side of the treatment process and watched Frankie work with fascination. Frankie was careful to always keep Sebastian’s leg supported so the broken bones never had to hold any weight. He also talked a lot. I was used to explaining things to patients in my own job, but this was on a whole different level.

Frankie spoke with a soft neutral tone that soothed stressed nerves but also left no room for argument. He took the time to explain each muscle they focused on, what the exercise was doing for that muscle, and how it related to Sebastian’s overall recovery.

By the end, everyone had done a lot of talking, except for Agent Long. The man had taken a seat in a chair at the far side of the room and watched Sebastian’s physical therapy session in silence. Yet, he didn’t seem bored or uninterested. If anything, he stared at Frankie and Sebastian with more interest than I’d ever seen from him before. What was going through his head, I had no way of knowing, but he was obviously having a lot of thoughts. He kept rubbing his hand kept over his left arm, tracing invisible stripes along his sleeve like he was counting something.

I’d worked with enough patients to recognize a self-soothing habit when I saw one, but I kept that observation to myself. Agent Long was doing us a favor by staying here to protect everyone. I wasn’t going to embarrass him by pointing out a moment of vulnerability.

After forty-five minutes of work, not only had we explained the entire situation to Frankie, but he’d also come up with a treatment plan for Sebastian.

“I’m already seeing a difference in the flexibility between your two legs,” Frankie declared as he helped Sebastian into a chair. “You aren’t moving the injured leg as much as the uninjured one, so the tendons are getting tight. It’ll throw off your balance when you start walking again and will make your recovery even harder. For now, we’re going to focus on maintaining flexibility and muscle strength. Once you can start putting some weight on that leg, then we’ll also work on bone strength as well.”

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