Never Let You Go(65)

“Jesus. What an *. Is Angus going to be okay?”

“They have to keep him overnight and check that his liver and kidneys aren’t damaged. He’s so sick, Marcus—he threw up all over the house, and he couldn’t move. It was terrifying seeing him like that.”

“I’ll come over.”

“It’s late. You don’t have to.” But I’m relieved at his offer. I don’t want to be alone.

“I’m already out the door. The party is lame without you anyway.”

He arrives fifteen minutes later, carrying a bottle of wine and a Styrofoam plate of snacks. He sets them down on the counter, then pulls me in for a hug. It’s the first time we’ve embraced, and for a second it’s awkward, my nose bumping into his jaw, but then we fit together for a perfect moment before parting. Now I feel cold, bereft. His body had felt so solid and real.

“You okay?” he says.

“Not really.” I walk back into the house, curl up on the couch. He grabs some glasses in the kitchen, pours the wine, then sets a glass and the plate of snacks in front of me.

“Here. I stole these for you.” He flops down beside me.

“Thanks.” I take a mini-cheese-quiche, pick at the edges. “I’m so worried about Angus. I never should have brought him into my messed-up life. He was better off in the shelter.”

“You didn’t know this was going to happen. Have you told Sophie?”

“Not yet. I’ll talk to her when she gets home. Jared’s parents have rides arranged. We agreed that she’d come home by one.” I check my phone, notice it’s almost nine already.

“Did you call the police?”

“They’re going to trace Andrew’s cell and see if he was near our house. And the vet will try to figure out what kind of pills he was given.”

“How long does Angus have to stay at the clinic?”

“I’ll find out in the morning. I don’t know how I’m going to afford all this. The emergency fee is going to be even more expensive because of the holidays, and—”

“Don’t worry about that right now. I’ll take care of it.”

“I don’t borrow money from friends.”

“Well, you’re going to from this one.” He holds up a hand to stop me from speaking. “I have lots of investments and no one to spend it on. Let me help, please.”

“I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

“I’m not worried about that, but I am worried about you. Andrew is escalating.”

“I know. I think he was punishing me because Sophie cut him off. When I tell her what happened to Angus, she’s going to be so upset.”

“Yes, but she’s strong and she has a great support system.”

I rest my head on the back of the couch, think over his words. I hope he’s right. I give him a small smile. “Thanks for coming over tonight. It helps.”

“Of course.” He leans over and squeezes my hand. “I just want to be a good friend. I still feel bad about what I said the other day. I had no right to interfere in your relationship.”

I study his face, searching out any hidden meaning in the words. Does he realize he’s still holding my hand? His skin is so hot. We’re so close. I could lean over and kiss him, which is a crazy thought and one I really shouldn’t be having. I shouldn’t even be on this couch with him.

“It’s okay,” I say. “Friends should be honest.” I hold his gaze.

“Yes, but I went too far. My timing sucked.” He releases my hand, takes a sip of his wine, and I wonder if he’s gathering courage to say more. What does he mean about his timing? He hesitates for another second, but then, as though he’s decided something, he gives his head a small shake and picks up the remote. “Should we watch the ball drop in New York?”

“Sounds good.” I focus on the merriment on TV, the noisy crowd, and the lively cohosts. If there had ever been a window into his thoughts, even a small one, he’d just slammed it shut.



When Sophie walks through the door a few minutes after one, she’s smiling, her cheeks red from the cold, and singing under her breath. Sophie never sings. Has she been drinking? Jared’s parents said it would be a dry party, but it wouldn’t surprise me if some of the kids snuck booze. I watch as she takes off her coat and boots. She isn’t stumbling or wobbly. She notices Marcus and me sitting in the living room and comes over to flop down in the other chair.

“Happy New Year,” I say. “How was the party?”

“Good.” She yawns, one of her hands reaching up to twirl a chunk of her hair, the violet hue catching the soft light in the living room. “How about yours?” Before I can answer she looks around, a confused expression on her face. “Where’s Angus?”

“I had to take him to the clinic.” There’s no way to soften this. I have to spit it out. “When I got home from work tonight, I found him in the house and he was really sick. I think Andrew threw meat over the fence with some sort of pills in it, but he’s going to be okay.”

She looks stunned, her hand still holding a chunk of her hair. “You sure it was him?”

“He’s the only person who’s angry at me. I hurt him, so now he has to hurt me.”