Page 46 of Breakdown
Peter sealed the edges of the cut closed as best he could, wiping his hands off on a clean shop rag. “I don’t know, he seems too trustworthy to pull something like that.”
Nik grinned up at him, radiant and perfect in spite of the fact half his face looked like it’d been through a meat grinder. “And even if he did, you are much too smart to fall for it.”
“Exactly.” The swell of affection he felt for Nik was almost too much to bear in that moment. In spite of all odds, he was here and he was alive and he was Peter’s. Peter offered his hand, pulling Nik into a standing position.
Nik didn’t so much get up as allow himself to be tugged bodily into Peter’s waiting arms, leaning heavily on him. Holding him steady did something to shore up Peter’s own stability. The long night was finally over, the California sun hot and bright coming up over the hills.
Cynthia hovered by his side for a moment. “I assume you’re taking the fancy Mustang, so I’m calling dibs on the stolen car out front. I’ll ditch it for you. I figure maybe I owe you that one, sweet-pea.” She grimaced. “We’ll talk later. I don’t think either of us is built for this, but maybe we can muddle through somehow.”
Peter hugged his mother. It was awkward and stiff, but it was something. “Thanks, Mom.”
Cynthia Bauer nodded. Then she disappeared through the busted bay door.
Nik fished the keys to the Mustang out of his pocket. “I think you are going to have to drive,” he said apologetically.
Peter could handle that.
The engine roaring beneath him, the radio cranked loud, he pulled away from the garage and pointed them toward the endless horizon.
Epilogue
PETER PEERED INTO THEdimness of the closed shop. He almost wished he’d taken Nik up on the offer of his company. But, as generous as it was, Nik was still recovering, and Peter didn’t want to do anything to set him back if he could help it. The last month had been hard enough on him. Hell, on both of them. It was time to do what he’d been putting off.
Nina was taking care of Mia for the day. Peter dropped her off at school, but Nina was picking her up and keeping her for the night.Nik was in no shape to handle it alone.
Peter had unscrewed more than half the lightbulbs in the house to make Nik more comfortable, the usual brightness intensifying his already awful headaches. They made it so he couldn’t watch TV, couldn’t read, couldn’t hike, couldn’t drive, and couldn’t do anything to distract himself from the long days while they were waiting to return to the garage. It wasn’t just that—sometimes even Mia’s bright laughter or percussive feet on the hardwood were enough to send him lurching to throw up or lie down or both. Nik loved his daughter, and having to step back from parenting was taking a toll on him.
Peter picked up the slack as best as he could, surprised at how easy it was to fall into the routine of bedtimes and bath times, playdates and story hours, morning school drop-offs and afternoon pick-ups. Surprised at the way Mia slipped her tiny hand, unhesitant and unquestioning, into Peter’s as they crossed the street.
It was always the little things like that that got to Peter, the realization that she felt safe with him, that she trusted him and that Nik trusted him too, with the thing that was the most precious to him. Peter was going to keep working every goddamn day until he was sure he was worthy of that trust. Right now, he was going to do everything in his power to help Nik.
Nik’s scans had been clear from complications, and the doctor had assured them that this was all a normal part of the concussion recovery process. All the same, Peter’s skin crawled with how little he could actually do at the moment to make Nik feel better. It finally reached a breaking point last night over dinner.
“Perhaps...” Nik’s eyebrows knit together, and Peter stopped mid-chew, helpless and guilt-ridden that he was in pain again.
Between the dislocated shoulder, the concussion, and the stitches, they’d given him a prescription for painkillers. Nik stubbornly refused to fill it, said he didn’t want it in the house and wouldn’t let Peter argue with him about it. Which was probably a smart choice, but Peter hated watching him white-knuckle it.
