Outcast (28 page)

“You're right,” Alex snapped. “It's not. I just feel really stupid right now.”

“Well, you shouldn't.”

“I should have realized from the moment I—”

“From the moment you what?”

“I've depended on you more than I should have, that's all.”

“Your safety is my job.”

“You've made that more than clear.”

John sighed, exasperated. “Are you pissed off at me now?”

“More so at myself.” Alex walked over to the door where John's damp jacket hung, picked it up, and held it out to him. “As usual, Inspector, you've done an excellent job of looking out for us, but like I said, it's late.”

“Alex . . .”

“For the record the name is Adriane. Remember?”

John lingered for a few seconds longer before leaving the house, and waited in his car until Alex shut the door.

After locking it, she went around rechecking the windows and doors before returning to the bottle of vodka she'd left on the kitchen table. Curling up at the end of the sofa, she poured another drink, and turned on the television. Her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. She scanned the channels, fighting the sleep she desperately needed, berating herself for feelings she had no right to have. She waited for the demons that would inevitably invade her dreams.

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Outcast Copyright © 2013 Lewis Ericson

 

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ISBN: 978-1-6228-6076-0

 

 

 

 

 

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