Page 23 of Body and Soul

The door swung open and Gavin stepped inside, his arms laden with brown paper grocery bags. He nodded at Shepherd before his cool gray eyes settled on me.

“Eli, this is Gavin, my personal assistant,” Shepherd introduced. “Gavin, Eli will be staying with us for a while.”

Gavin gave me a brisk nod, his cool eyes assessing. “A pleasure,” he said with careful neutrality. He set the grocery bags down with efficient ease, exuding the quiet control of someone accustomed to managing things without question. “I stocked up on some basics,” Gavin explained as he placed a carton of eggs in the fridge. “Figured you might want to cook for yourself sometimes, Eli. Let me know if there's anything specific you'd like me to pick up next time.”

I mumbled a thank you, still feeling off balance by Gavin's sudden appearance. It was strange, having someone else shopping for my food, anticipating my needs. In the cult, we ate whatever meager rations were provided, never daring to voice a preference or request. And after I escaped, I subsisted on ramen noodles and canned soup, stretching every dollar as far as it could go.

Shepherd must have sensed my unease because he spoke up, his voice calm and reassuring. “We can always go shopping together too, Eli. So you can pick out things you like. This is to get you started.”

I nodded, grateful for the offer. The thought of wandering through a big, brightly lit grocery store, faced with endless choices and decisions, was daunting. Having Shepherd there would make it feel more manageable.

“Speaking of getting started,” Shepherd continued, “we should probably swing by your old place sometime soon to pick up yourthings. Clothes, personal items, anything you want to bring with you.”

My stomach clenched at the thought of going back to that dingy, cramped apartment. At facing Hal and Cherry and Ketchup, explaining where I'd been, why I was leaving. Would they be angry? Hurt? Would they even care?

“I don't have much,” I said, my voice sounding small in the expansive luxury of Shepherd's living room. “Some clothes, my art books, and my tattoo supplies…”

Shit. My apprenticeship at Cherry’s. With all the chaos, I'd completely forgotten about it. What if she was pissed at me for moving out? What if she didn’t want me around the shop anymore? Tattooing was the one thing I had that was truly mine. The thought of losing it made my chest tighten.

“Fuck,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “My apprenticeship. It’s at my roommates’ shop. What if she doesn’t want me there anymore after this?”

Shepherd's brow furrowed in concern. He crossed the room and sat down next to me, the leather couch creaking slightly under his weight. “Do you want to continue your apprenticeship?”

I nodded vigorously. “More than anything. It's…it's all I have.” My voice cracked on the last word.

“Then we'll make sure you can continue,” Shepherd said firmly. “I’m sure your friend will understand. If not, we’ll work together to find you another placement if we have to.”

Relief bloomed in my chest at Shepherd's words, at the certainty in his voice. But it was quickly followed by a twist of guilt. Shepherd had already done so much.

I looked up at Shepherd, my brow furrowing in confusion. “But what about getting another job? I can't let you pay for everything. I need to contribute somehow.”

Shepherd shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. “Don't worry about that right now, Eli. I'm happy to cover your expenses while you focus on your apprenticeship and getting settled here.”

My gut twisted with unease at his words. This was all too easy, too open-handed—too…caring. Good things didn’t just happen; they were traps, and I’d learned to see them for what they were. There was always a price, often hidden but always cruel.

“I don't know,” I said slowly, picking at a loose thread on my tank top. “I don’t want to be a burden,” I said, but it wasn’t just that. I didn’t want to rely on anyone—not again. Dependency was dangerous; it left you helpless.

“You're not a burden,” Shepherd assured me, his tone patient but firm. “I invited you to stay here. Helping you get back on your feet is part of that invitation.”

I chewed my lip ring, still unconvinced, but not wanting to seem ungrateful. “I'll pay you back,” I mumbled. “Once I start making money from tattooing.”

“We can discuss that later,” Shepherd said, rising to his feet. “For now, let's focus on getting you settled in. Gavin, would you mind showing Eli to his room while I get dinner started?”

Gavin, who had been quietly observing our exchange from the kitchen, nodded. “Of course. Right this way, Eli.”

I followed Gavin down the hallway, my ratty sneakers sinking into the plush carpet with each step.

He pointed out a closed door at the end of the hall. “That's Shepherd's room, and that one’s Dex’s room.” He gestured to a door on the left. “It's generally kept locked, as Shepherd mentioned. Please respect their privacy and don't enter either room without an explicit invitation.”

I nodded, making a mental note. The last thing I wanted was to overstep my bounds and piss off Shepherd or one of his alters. We continued down the hall, passing a sleek, modern bathroomwith gleaming chrome fixtures and a rainfall showerhead that looked like it belonged in a luxury spa.

“You're welcome to use any of the toiletries,” Gavin said, noting my wide-eyed gaze. “Shepherd keeps the guest bathroom well-stocked.”

I mumbled a thank you, struggling to absorb the contrast: a full shelf of toiletries versus the half-empty, shared shampoo bottle back home.

Gavin led me past another door, this one slightly ajar. Through the gap, I caught a glimpse of a large mahogany desk, bookshelves lined with thick volumes, and a leather armchair. “Shepherd's office,” Gavin supplied. “He conducts most of his remote therapy sessions from there.”

Finally, we stopped in front of the last door at the end of the hall. Gavin pushed it open and stepped aside, allowing me to enter first.

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