Page 36 of Five
Go ‘way, Jamie Fraser. Don’t wanna get up.
That stupid pounding won’t stop, though. It’s relentless, and I struggle up from my slumber, trying to figure out what it is. It doesn’t belong in my dream. Only Oscar and Oliver, please.
A sudden crash has me screaming and jerking upright in the tub—what the hell am I doing in the bathtub?—banging my head on the faucet as I do, and Jamie Fraser jumps, his fur standing straight up as he hisses at the man in the doorway.
The utterly, completely destroyed doorway.
I grab the closest object—my can of shaving cream on the edge of the tub—and spray peach-scented gel at him.
Oscar looks down at himself with a heated expression and sniffs his shirt.
Oscar.
“What the hell—o!”
“What the fuck are you doing in the damn bathtub?”
We begin at the same time. Oscar stops, lowering his gun, and wipes some of the shaving cream off of his shirt. He raises an eyebrow at me, and I begin to climb out of the tub, my bare feet crunching slivers of wood into the floor. Jamie Fraser flees the scene, leaping over the chair that lies in pieces and escaping between Oscar’s legs.
I try again, my gaze flitting nervously from the door barely on its hinges to the man that fills the entrance. “Detective. I hate to be dense, but what the actual…” I raise my hands and curl them into fists. “…fuck!”
Sometimes you just need to cuss. Sorry, kids.
”—are you doing in my bathroom? You broke my freaking door!”
Before he can reply, Caroline pushes in around him, red hair flying and breath coming in winded gasps. “Fuck me, Oscar. I can’t run like that. I used to smoke!”
We both look at her, astonishment clear on our faces.
“It was urgent,” Oscar defends himself.
Caroline ignores him. “What the hell, Neve? Why are you in the fucking bathtub?”
I stare around me, a sense of shock beginning to set in. My bathroom is a war zone, its wall bearing a hole in it from where the chair was propelled into it and pieces of wood littering the floor. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
Oscar utters a low curse and turns, striding into the other room.
“Let me break it down for you,” Caroline replies, her agitation becoming clearer as she gets her breath back. “You went silent on me yesterday. You didn’t answer me this morning, and I called youthousandsof times. Thousands. You didn’t show up for work, which I went to first and discovered wasclosed. I was worried, damn it.”
“Oh.” I smooth my hair back and out of my face.
“Oh?” Her voice, normally low and raspy, climbs an octave. “Where is your phone, Neve? What the hell is going on?”
“Can you…ah…give me a sec?” I motion toward the toilet. After a narrow-eyed look, Caroline walks into the other room and gives me a moment to use the bathroom and splash some water on my face. Without a shower, which I’m not taking with the door hanging in strips, I look like I spent the night in a bathtub—which is to say, hideous. But it’ll have to do.
Feeling marginally more in control of myself, I walk out to join Oscar and Caroline in the living room, pausing when I see the front door hanging on its hinges, as well. I close my eyes briefly, then open them and look at my friend.
“I’m fine. Obviously. Yesterday was a little rough, and I ended up locking myself in the bathroom. But I’m fine.”
Caroline’s lips purse. “Where is your phone?”
I glance around and spot it where I had thrown it to the floor yesterday, then pick it up and poke at its black screen. “Here. It’s dead…all the calls and texts must’ve killed the battery.”
Caroline grabs the device from my hands and plugs it into the charging station. “Is your passcode still the same?”
“Yes—“
“What do you mean yesterday was rough?”
