Page 38 of Storm

“What? Fix who?” I ask, confused as fuck by Ezra’s ramblings. Instead of answering, all I hear is my music begin to play since he simply hung up on me. “Fuck,” I groan, then quickly dial Tatum’s number.

I’m careful to keep my eye on the road as I head over to Richard’s place. We’re supposed to wait on Veronica to arrive, then I’ll follow the two of them up to the cabin. I was already on my way when he called to let me know her flight was delayed by about an hour, but I’m not going to turn around just wait fifteen minutes at my place.

The phone rings a few times before going to Tatum’s voicemail. “Hey, Tate. Listen, Ezra just called me and I think he’s spiraling right now. I’ve no idea what he’s up to, but he said he tried to call you before he got a hold of me. Give him a call, would you? Then let me know what’s going on. Thanks.”

I try to call Ezra back, but his phone goes immediately to voicemail. I’m annoyed for the remainder of my drive, but let it go as soon as I pull up to Richard’s building. Heading inside, Iwait until security lets me through and I take the elevator to the top floor where his apartment is.

The door is cracked already, so I enter, announcing myself as I shut the door.

“In the kitchen,” he calls out, and I find him reheating dinner. “You eat already? There’s enough here if you want some.”

“I’m good. I ate before I got on the road. When’s Veronica supposed to get here?”

He eyes me for a second. “It’s Victoria. I’m not sure she’ll appreciate you screwing her name up to her face.”

Closing my eyes, I nod once, pushing away the slight sick feeling surrounding her name and knowing I’m going to fuck another woman after Miriam. It just doesn’t feel right and I’m having second thoughts.

“Right, yeah, I won’t fuck that up. Listen, I’ll still go up with you two, but I’ll be honest. I’m not sure I’m in the mood for another long weekend of this. I might just use the time to relax.”

Richard is listening to me, but takes a few more bites before choosing his words. I’m actually quite surprised by his response.

“I won’t deny that I’m wavering as well. Unfortunately, she’s already traveled and the least we can do is go up. I’ll talk with her on the drive and let her know there aren’t any expectations of her, and if anything, it’ll just be some time away from everything. If things change, we can address it at that time.”

It’s as if a huge weight lifts from my shoulders. Obviously, I refuse to do something I’m not happy about, but not having to worry about my friend’s reaction to it makes it less stressful.

“Perfect. We can still compensate her for her time, but we’ll just tell her she can have use of the cabin and hot tub, or whatever she’d like to do.”

“I was planning to bring some work along anyway. If she fusses, I’ll just use the excuse that something came up.” Takinga larger bite, he hums to himself, clearly more relaxed about this trip now as well. Squinting, he then asks, “You sure you’re okay without somecuddletime this weekend?”

My laughter bursts out, freed from the unnecessary guilt of moving on, and I revel in it. “Yeah, I’m certain I’ll be okay. You’ll survive without pretending you’re knocking someone up?” I tease back.

Laughing harder when his grin changes to a scowl, he ignores my question. Instead, he asks, “Anything big going on at the station?”

“Not really. Either on hold, waiting for court dates, or typical day-to-day calls. Anything big going on in the office?”

He snorts and shakes his head, then takes his plate to the sink to rinse. “Not really. Typical day-to-day calls.” Checking his phone, he adds, “She said she’ll grab a cab over here. Her plane landed. We’ve got about another hour or so to kill.”

We chat about nothing important for a while. Time moves slowly as we wait for this woman’s arrival before I finally move toward a heavier topic.

“Hey, I meant to ask, did Ezra call you today?” I debate how much to tell him. He doesn’t dislike Ezra, but I know Richard can get uncomfortable around the wildness of him.

Heading toward his bedroom, he nonchalantly responds. “No. Should he have?”

I wait until he returns with his bag for the weekend before filling him in.

“Possibly. He called me on my way here and was a bit of a mess.” I note Richard’s snort from my “mess” label, and keep explaining. “Yes, yes. I know he’s always a bit of a mess, but this was different. Nonsensical, panicked, but lucid. Does that make sense?”

“Huh.” He sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks back, thinking it over. “What’d he say? Normally when he gets in thatkind of state of mind, he’s, well… gone. Up there.” When he taps his head to stress the point, I agree.

“That’s why I thought maybe he’d have called. He was talking about his dad, protection, and upset about someone being messed up like him. That, and…” I trail off, scratching the back of my head, curious if I should add the last part. Deciding to go for it, I just say the words. “And tampons.”

Richard jerks his head in surprise and raises a brow. “Tampons?”

“Yes.”

“And he was lucid? You sure?”

“Very.” I stress the truth with my word, and I know he understands. It’s obvious he’s also a bit concerned, but has no ideas.

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