Page 119 of Forbidden Harmony

“Fuck,” he muttered as the throbbing in hishead increased.

“Give me your phone.I’ll call you an Uber.” Nolan took his phone. “What’s the sheriff’s addressagain?”

Preacher mumbled out the address as the doorswung open and a man wearing a cowboy hat and boots walked in.

“That’s my two thirty appointment,” Nix said.“Feel better, man.” He clapped Preacher lightly on the back before walking overand greeting the client.

Nolan handed him his phone. “Uber’s on theway. I’ll close up the shop tonight and open tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Nolan.” He felt a wave of gratitudefor his apprentice. The guy might never shut the fuck up, but more than oncehe’d taken care of the shop when Preacher was suffering from a migraine.

“It’s no problem. Your Uber will be herein two minutes. Text me if you need anything.” Nolan squeezed his shoulderand left.

His phone dinged. The aura was so strongnow, he was barely able to read Gideon’s reply text. His head throbbing andsick to his stomach, he considered just heading up to his apartment and ridingout the migraine alone rather than brave the drive to Gideon’s house, butultimately headed outside.

He hated being alone when he had amigraine. He needed Gideon there, needed him checking on him every few hours,bringing him water and ice packs, and making sure he wasn’t fucking dead from agoddamn aneurism or something. His not quite articulated fear that the migrainewould never end, that he would spend the rest of his life in agony, was dimmed somewhatwhen he wasn’t alone.

The Uber was waiting for him, and hestaggered forward and climbed into the back seat, trying to keep the sudden nauseaat bay.

“Hello,” the driver said.

He mumbled out a hello and closed his eyes.He’d be okay. He just needed to get to Gideon’s and then he’d be okay.

* * *

Preacher squinted out the window at thebuilding they were parked in front of.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. “Why are wehere?”

“This is the address you gave me.” The Uberdriver twisted in his seat to stare at him.

“What?” Preacher tried to think past thethrobbing pain in his head. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did,” the guy said. His cellphone rang – it was loud and shrill, and Preacher could barely stop fromgrabbing it and throwing it out the window. The driver stared at his cell asit rang but made no attempt to answer it.

“For fuck’s sake,” Preacher growled.“Answer the goddamn thing.”

The driver stared cautiously at him. “What’syour problem, man? You’re sweaty and you look fucked up. You on drugs orsomething?”

“No,” Preacher gritted out.

The phone rang again and again and with asmall groan of pain, Preacher opened the car door. “Thanks.”

“Sure, yeah,” the driver said.

He nearly fell out of the car in his hasteto get out. He shut the door and braced his hands on his knees as the carpulled away. The exhaust made his gorge rise and he fought bitterly againstvomiting. After a few seconds, he won, and he straightened and staggered downthe sidewalk to the building.

He should call Gideon and ask him to comepick him up but the thought of trying to use his cell phone, of sitting outsidewith the hot sun beating down on his aching, pounding head made him want to crylike a fucking baby.

He couldn’t do it. He needed a soft bedand darkness before his fucking head exploded. He gave Nolanthe wrong address to type in by accident and now he just had to hope thatshe was home and that she would let him inside.

He buzzed her apartment number. The soundmade new pain burst through his head and he lowered it and clung grimly to the wallas he waited.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” he gritted out. “Can I comein?”

There was silence and he was getting readyto beg when the door buzzed open. He yanked on the door handle and staggeredinto the blessed coolness of the lobby. In too much pain to climb the stairs,he took the elevator. He rubbed the back of his neck as the fire in his brainburned bright. He lurched out of the elevator and down the hallway to herapartment. Before he could knock, the door opened, and he squinted at her ashe swayed back and forth.

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