Page 151 of Power of the Mind

Unless you want to see me sooner, they said.Unless you want more. Please want more.

But it was hopeless. Even if I wanted to pursue a relationship, it wasn’t possible. People like Tallus weren’t meant for people like me, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him.

I left with regret, shame, and a heavy dose of sadness weighing heavy on my shoulders.

Since I couldn’t come up with a viable excuse to see Tallus again that didn’t involve a middle-of-the-night hookup, it was a long, lonely eight days before Doyle called with answers.

35

Diem

The following Tuesday morning, while doing surveillance for a new client, my phone rang. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought it might be Tallus and fumbled the device from the cup holder to check the screen. It had been a miserable, lonely eight days, and I couldn’t get the too-hot-for-his-own-good records clerk off my mind.

My sessions at the gym had become unhealthy, my drinking was out of hand, and I’d smoked nonstop since we parted eight days ago. Worse, I couldn’t quell the incessant rage that filled my chest when I thought about Tallus returning to Gasoline and hooking up with random men.

Doyle’s name flashed across the screen, and although I’d been anxiously waiting for his call, I was swamped with disappointment that it wasn’t Tallus.

I answered with a grumbled, “Yeah.”

“I’ve got a golden ticket,” he sang annoyingly in lieu of a greeting. I was starting to hate that song.

But the implication sank in, and I sat up straighter. “I was right.”

“You were right. Bring your boy toy and meet me at Casey’s tonight at six.” Doyle hung up without hinting at what he’d found. The prick.

My head spun with possibilities as I located Tallus’s number in my contacts. For eight days, I’d feared I was wrong and would be left questioning this stupid fucking case for all of eternity.

But I was right. Whatever was inside those pills was toxic.

My finger stilled over Tallus’s name, and it took all my willpower to connect the call, fearing I’d turn into a tongue-tied idiot the second he answered.

Three rings, and his instantly chattering voice was music to my ears. “Guns! Oh my god, you have no idea how happy I am that it’s you. Memphis has been riding my ass about that damn shirt I owe him. You remember the bet? Seriously, though. Come on. What kind of princess bitch does he think he is wanting a one hundred and seventy-five-dollar shirt? I can’t afford that. If I had that kind of extra money, I wouldn’t be eating Kraft dinner and hot dogs every night.”

He moaned. “It was better when he wasn’t talking to me. How are you? It’s been ages. Where are you? What time is it? Oh my god. Did Doyle call? Are the results in? Why are you leaving me in suspense? Hello? D? Words. Talk. Converse. Are you there?”

My lips twitched, and I almost smiled as he senselessly yammered on. I’d missed his energy. His spunk and sass. I missed having the chance to tell him to shut up because he talked too much. For someone whose life felt suffocating all the time, it was a wonder that I’d found myself so comfortable in Tallus’s presence. Comfortable enough, his absence had left a mark.

“D?”

“Hey.” My voice rasped, so I cleared my throat. “Casey’s diner at six. Can you be there?”

“Casey’s? Oh. Um… yeah… I can… Sure. Are we meeting Doyle?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he say what—”

“No.”

“Six o’clock?”

“Yeah.” I paused, absorbing his Kraft dinner and hot dog comment, and quietly added, “It’s on me.”

“D, you don’t have to—”

“It’s a business expense. No big deal. I’ll pick you up.”

A long pause ensued. “Yeah. Okay.” Why did he sound defeated? “See you tonight.”

---