But it’s Evan.
He staggers into the kitchen, his shirt half-unbuttoned, his pajama bottoms winkled, his feet bare, and sinks into a chair at the table. “Matt.”
I pour him a cup of coffee. “Milk, sugar?”
“Nah.” He gulps half of it down, or maybe it’s all of it, what do I know, before looking up at me. “Thanks.”
I shrug. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
He reaches into his pocket, fishes out a bag of pills and throws it on the table. “Pain keeps me awake. Forgot to take these last night.”
“My fault. Shit, I should have made sure you took them.”
“You’re not my babysitter, Matt. You came, you helped me out. I’m grateful. I need to be able to take care of myself.”
“Well, that’s the thing.” I sit down across from him, take the bag and study the pills inside. “Sometimes you have to accept you need help. I’m glad you called, man.”
He studies his empty mug as if it contains some answer to a cosmic question. “Yeah.”
“Hey, Evan.” This has been on my mind since we arrived, and now, in the dark hour, I can’t keep the question inside me any longer. “Why did you really ask us to come over?”
He looks up at me, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, sure, I drove you to the doc’s, we got you pet food, Octavia played with Melissa, and it was all good. But you could have gotten anyone here in Destiny to do these things for you. The guys at the garage. Your sister.” I lean forward, fold my arms on the table top, letting my hunch play out. “What did you want to tell me?”
His eyes widen before he looks quickly away. He scratches at the cast, as if he can reach the skin underneath. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
I rub both hands over my face and sigh. “Fair enough.” Hunches can be wrong, anyway, and I’m beat. I push back the chair and climb to my feet. “Then I’ll head back to bed. Try and get some sleep, dude.”
“Matt, wait.”
I turn back around, lean against the kitchen counter. “What?”
I’m so tired that time seems to stretch and then snap, moving in weird jumps. One second I’m there, the next Evan is standing in front of me. He’s tall enough that he’s staring at me eye to eye, something that rarely happens. If any other guy stood like that in front of me, I’d have already fisted my hands, ready for a fight.
It doesn’t happen, though. He looks awful, thin and in pain.
“Look, I…” He lifts his good hand, lets it drop again. “I’m not sure what I wanted. I had this damn feeling of sinking, of not touching bottom, and I had this idea that you could help me.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“I guess… I wanted a friend,” Evan says. “A real friend, who’s been through fucking bad times and made it out whole, you know? Maybe I needed someone I could trust and tal
k to. Maybe I needed to tell you about Jasper, and about Melissa.”
“And did you get what you needed? Feeling better now?”
“I dunno.” He takes a step back. “I feel lighter, for sure. But I still dunno what to do about either.”
I’m not God. I’m not even a saint, like Octavia, who wants to save the world. I’m a grumpy bastard, obsessed with death and with keeping my little family safe.
But Evan trusted me to help him find a solution. And I think I got it.
“Would you consider coming to work for me?”
He blinks up at me, looking confused. “For you? At the garage?”
“Yeah, at Mancave. Kaden has been pestering me for a long time now to hire another mechanic, someone experienced and trustworthy. I couldn’t think of anyone to suggest, but if you’re looking for a city to move to, and a job…”