Page 26 of The Meaning Of You

Madigan huffed, “Well, you’ve got the arrogance part nailed. How do you feel about cocaine?”

I grinned at his back and he turned and offered me a wry smile. “But I’m thinking Shaggy fromScooby-Doowould be a better fit. Themiddle-agedversion.”

I raised a brow.

“Come on, you’ve already got the haircut.”

I snorted and shoved him up the last two stairs. “Funny guy. The guest bathroom is behind you. I’ll grab you a clean shirt and leave it outside the door.”

“Andthey were probably lovers.” Madigan’s voice followed me down the hall. “Watson and Sherlock I mean, not Shaggy... obviously. At least that’s what some modern scholars posit.”

“You don’t say.” I kept walking and tried to remember the last time I’d heard anyone use the word posit. I came up blank.

Madigan muttered something I couldn’t hear and the bathroom door snipped shut. The man was as quirky as they came, and I was still smiling as I ferreted a clean T-shirt from my drawer and marvelled at how Madigan’s unexpected appearance on my doorstep had turned a completely fucked-up day on its head in just a few minutes.

It summed up in a sentence just how dangerous the man was.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Nick

When we’dboth cleaned up, I made coffee, and while I was scouring my cupboards for something to eat that wasn’t growing green on the surface, Madigan took his mug and went in search of the lounge. He was long gone before I remembered the horrifying state of the room. I tried to call him back, but the damage was already done. When I appeared in the doorway, he was standing in the middle of the room looking pretty much gobsmacked, even if he tried to hide it once he realised I was there.

For a few seconds, I tried to see the room through his eyes and winced. Yeah, not good. I could’ve offered any number of excuses, or none at all. But I didn’t pass it off as anything other than what it was—a deeply accurate statement of where my head had been for too long and on some days still was. But the tide was slowly turning and I’d been in a much better mental space since then, even if I hadn’t quite summoned the energy to clean the place up.

The place reeked of unwashed bodies, stale food, and grief—testament to the fact I’d virtually camped out in front of thetelevision for the first three weeks after Davis died. I’d even slept there rather than lie in our bed knowing he’d never share it with me again. Not that I could remember anything I’d watched. Just a rolling tide of reality television offering endless distraction and deep depression.

“Grab a seat if you can find one.” I brushed past and drew the curtains aside for the first time in over a month. Then I shoved open a couple of windows because yeah, the odour was truly outstanding and Madigan had a right to be worried. The thieves might’ve done a number on the place but that didn’t explain the stacks of takeout containers and unwashed plates that covered most of the coffee table and the furniture as well.

“Thanks.” Madigan’s concerned gaze again swept the messy room, but he said nothing. I should’ve been horrified that he was witnessing the true hovel I’d been living in, but for some reason I wasn’t. Two weeks earlier and things might’ve been different. Two weeks earlier and I couldn’t have guaranteed that I’deverhave the strength, let alone will to leave that dark, safe cocoon.

But there I was.

Out, if not yet free.

Baby steps, right?

Madigan tidied an empty pizza box, a selection of balled-up napkins, two pillows, and a blanket to the far end of the couch so he had room to sit. No judgement. Not platitudes. No offer to help me clean up.

He took a sip of his coffee and studied me across the coffee table. “How’s your head?”

I touched the new tape. “Okay. How’s the stomach?”

He grunted. “Sore, but I’ll live.”

The room fell silent as we sipped on our coffees. And maybe it was the very fact that hedidn’tpush that had me saying what came next. Or maybe it was just Madigan himself... in my house... on my sofa... being... Madigan. Either way, he didn’teven have to ask before I was trying to explain. Christ almighty, the man needed to come with a warning label at the very least.Engage at your peril.

“Before you call Lizzie about the state of my mental health, since I know damn well that she’s somehow involved in your unsolicited appearance on my doorstep?—”

“She didn’t?—”

I held up a hand. “Understand thatthis—” I swept my hand around the room. “—represents the first three weeks after Davis’s death. It doesnotrepresent the last week. I’ve... progressed. Maybe not as much as some would like, but I am getting there.”

Madigan raised a brow but remained quiet as he cleared a space on the coffee table for his mug and sat back. “Just to be clear, I won’t be telling Lizzie anything that I don’t okay with you first, got it?”

I wasn’t sure I believed him but I nodded.

He studied me for a moment, then said, “You never mentioned working for the police. I thought you were an accountant and that you worked from home.”

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