Page 84 of Private Exhibit
Andy read and sorted and re-read the files until he found himself falling asleep at his desk again. He thought about getting some coffee and keeping at it, but then he'd be no use to anyone. Andy groaned. He definitely wasn't getting any younger. The long hours used to be easy. Andy rolled his eyes.Alright, maybe not easy, he admitted to himself, but certainly not as hard as they were now. He was starting to feel stretched thin and wrung dry.
But he couldn't give up.
Except he knew he needed to, at least for the night. Andy scrubbed a hand over his face as he pushed back the chair, got up, and dragged himself down to the garage. He got into his carand let it drive him home. Once inside his apartment, Andy went straight to bed.
The next morning, Andy woke and glanced at the time, then jumped out of bed in a rush. He ran straight for the washroom and got into the shower, then barely dried off before he made a beeline for the kitchen. There was no coffee waiting for him.Damn it. He'd been so tired last night, he'd entirely forgotten to preset it. Andy braced himself on the counter as he waited for the pot to brew, then stood there, still with a towel wrapped around his waist, while he drank that whole first mug, letting the caffeine steadily take effect before he even thought about going to get dressed.
He had to be present for Devon today. The whole situation was difficult enough as it was, and now Andy was throwing a move into the mix. Poor Devon was going to struggle with the change in surroundings. With the unfamiliarity of it all. Andy cursed and shook his head. It had to be done. He wouldn't feel easy until he had Devon under his own roof.
Andy snorted a laugh. Truth be told, he'd be happier if he could keep Devon confined to the E.R, where they could jump into action at a moment's notice, but he also hated the very thought of that. Of seeing Devon surrounded by white walls and machines? Andy shuddered.
Devon deserved beauty. And comfort.
Then again, Devon wasn't going to get much of that at Andy's apartment, either.
Andy grimaced as he looked around, seeing his apartment through Devon's eyes. The place looked so stark and impersonal. Devon needed colors. Patterns. Textures. Beauty and light and life.
But there was no time for any of that at the moment. Andy couldn't think past getting Devon there and then getting back towork, trying to solve the problem that had plagued both of their lives.
Andy finished the pot of coffee, got dressed, and rushed out the door.
The entire move was done before lunch. Besides their computers—which Oliver had insisted on packing himself—the boys didn't own very much between them. They'd lived as frugally as they possibly could. It all barely made an impression in Andy's apartment.
But having Devon there felt like a huge weight off Andy's mind. Now he wouldn't have to leave Devon every night. The boy would be right there when he got home.
Until the day Andy came home to find Devon was gone for good.
Andy shuddered, trying to drive that thought away. It wouldn't be for good. Not really. But the change would still be devastating. Devon would no longer be flesh and blood, warm and soft.
Damn it. Andy almost wished he still had his old apartment above the hospital, at the very least. Then he could get Devon to the E.R. in a hurry. As it was, they were no closer than Devon's apartment had been.
Itfeltcloser, though, somehow. For now, that would have to be enough.
Andy glanced at Devon. The boy slumped in the wheelchair, watching Oliver do all the work of setting up their computers. Andy winced. Devon wouldn't even be able to use his machines. Not unless the attack eased off and gave him back the use of his hands.
The way the attack was going, Andy wasn't holding his breath on that.
A vibrating phone interrupted Andy's thoughts.
Devon looked around. “Damn it. That's mine.”
“I've got it,” Andy told him. He spotted the phone and picked it up, carrying it over to the boy. A notification for a new text message displayed, but when Andy tried to open it for him, he couldn't get past the lockscreen.
Oliver rushed over. “Here. I know his code.”
“Just disable the lock,” Devon mumbled. “Not really much point to having one anymore.”
“What kind of hacker are you?” Oliver teased, then quickly sobered and looked away, busying himself with unlocking the phone and handing it back to Andy. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I'll just…” He turned and hurried off to go finish setting up the computers.
“Who is it?” Devon asked quietly.
“It's from Hayden,” Andy told him.
Devon perked up slightly. “What'd he say?”
Andy read the message. “He wants to know how you're doing. Says he was worried about you after we left brunch the other day.”
Devon visibly deflated. “Oh.”
