Page 24 of Traitor

I closed my eyes against the tension headache that had appeared out of nowhere and fought back tears. “No…it just didn’t work out. Listen, I really need to go talk to the roofers and see if I can reschedule. I’ll get this taken care of for you. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

She remained in the doorway, staring at me as if I’d grown three heads. “Are you sure you’re okay to be here? Do you need to take the afternoon off?”

You could’ve knocked me over with a feather.

I quickly shook my head and went back to my computer screen. I didn’t trust her words—Sandra wasn’t known for doing anything out of the goodness of her heart. There was a catch and until I knew what that was, I was better off working through my broken heart up here.

Elizabeth followed me as I headed toward the roof access room. “Hey…wait up.”

I slowed my stride until she caught up with me. “What’s wrong?”

The corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile. “I could ask you the same thing. Did Doc go crazy? I tried to warn you that she was headed your way, but she was a woman on a mission.”

I pressed the palm of my hand gently against my forehead, desperate for relief. “Um—it was fine. I’m just having an off day. How are you? Have they said if Kaden will get to come home soon?”

Elizabeth bit down on her lower lip. “Well, that’s kind of why I wanted to talk to you. He’s almost up to eighty percent bottle feedings and they’ve said he’ll be released once he meets that. Lauren, I want to go part-time—I just don’t think that I can manage all of his care and work full-time. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head and pulled her into a hug, even as my mind began swirling with a massive to-do list.

Get the roofers off the building.

Find a new patient coordinator.

Work on remembering what day it is.

Call the police department and ask for a copy of Monica’s autopsy report.

Stop thinking about a certain detective.

Get back to the gym.

Avenge my mother’s death.

“It’s fine. Honestly, I expected it. You take care of that sweet boy.”

It wasn’t fine. It was just one more chink in my armor. I was unraveling more and more every day, descending into a madness that I wasn’t certain I could recover from.

My apartment was starting to resemble the set ofTrue Detective,with post-it notes and push-pins littering the walls. I stayed up all night scrawling down anything that seemed vital. In the harsh light of day though, the notes looked like nothing more than the ramblings of a crazy person.

It wasn’t that far from the truth.

Grief was strange.

Some days, I wasn’t sure I would be able to get out of bed and cover up the fact that I’d been crying most of the night. Then there were days when I woke up and felt nothing. I’d stare at my reflection in the bathroom, wondering why the thought of Monica wasn’t reducing me to tears. Those days were the worst—it was as if I was already forgetting her.

“I’m sorry, Ms. McGuire. To access that information, you’ll need to come down to the station and fill out a form. Once that’s processed, it could take up to six weeks.”

I pushed the metal pin in between the plates near the bottom of the leg extension machine and lifted the weight up with a huff. My quads burned, but I used my fury to power through four sets. I wasn’t going to be able to walk tomorrow.

It was ridiculous—if I’d still been dating Mike, I would’ve had the report in my hands today. I’d stared at my phone, contemplating calling him, but I still had my pride—along with the broken heart he’d left me with the last time.

“Lauren, if you can’t manage this office during your little break-up, then I’m going to need to find someone who can. Dara brought it to my attention that we have a past due balance with two of our suppliers. If I’ve got a hold on my accounts, then I can’t order. If I can’t order, then I can’t see patients. If I can’t see patients, then we’re all fucked. Do you understand?”

She’d spoken to me as if I was an ignorant child, while I sat and smiled through clenched teeth before assuring her that I was capable of handling ‘my little breakup’ and my position as office manager.

I finished my last rep and headed for the bench press machine. I hadn’t been to the gym in months and, for the life of me, I couldn’t fathom why I was jumping from machine to machine with no clear workout plan in mind.

A meathead walked by and grinned appreciatively at me before lingering nearby, waiting to chat. I paused long enough to flip him off and then continued loading plates onto the bar. He muttered “bitch” under his breath before walking off to find his next target and I went back to kicking my own ass—both physically and mentally.

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