Tom had been right. His place was pleasantly not triggering for Sam. Rather than reminder of that horrible night when he'd knocked his best friend out and broke up with his girlfriend, the apartment was like a solace.
Angie's citrus perfume lingered in the air as well as Tom's XY and he felt safe. Cared for. Even if it was empty and Tom and Angie had fallen apart.
Sam secretly held a hope that once Angie showed up and explained what had happened, she and Tom would be back on track, that he would apologize for that stupid text and they'd kiss and make up. Sam tried to help that along by charging Angie's phone and searching it.
Once he plugged it in, though, he realized why Tom hadn't already done that. It needed a fingerprint to unlock. So it was a dud.
To make up for it, Sam tried watching TV. He couldn't. Every line of corny dialogue from any movie reminded him either of his status of village idiot, or of Christine and their painful breakup. Videogames it was.
Viedogames worked because he needed skill and attention to get through levels, especially when he wasn't very good at it. They numbed his brain, helped him escape the miserable outside word. So much so that he jumped a mile when someone rang the doorbell.
It was two in the morning. Tom and Angie both had keys and no one else had any reason to be there because they thought the apartment was empty.
He was being too paranoid. It wasn't like anyone who could hurt him would knock. So he went to the door and opened it.
He had been so wrong. Harry stood in the doorway, Tom's arm draped over his shoulders, holding his twin off the floor. Tom seemed unconscious and probably was, because Sam didn't see any other reason he would allow Harry to touch him.
"Hey," Harry said. "I brought him home. Angie needs to fix him."
"Angie's not here," Sam said between his teeth.
"Told you, asshole," Tom mumbled, proving he wasn't actually knocked out. "Now pass me to better people and get lost."
Harry obeyed and passed Tom to Sam. He was dead weight and Sam almost toppled over.
"I couldn't leave him there like this," Harry said, shuffling his feet.
"Thanks," Sam answered, though the word seemed to puncture his throat.
"Want me to help you get him inside?"
Yeah, right. "No."
Harry sighed and bounced his fists off his thighs. "Sam, look, we need to talk."
Sam took one step back and pulled Tom over the threshold, then pushed the door closed with his foot, effectively slamming it in Harry's face. He'd dedicated enough energy to being civil to him. He wasn't up for more.
Tom was not helping at all as Sam dragged him towards the bathroom. He reeked of alcohol and was in obvious need of a cold shower.
He kept mumbling curses under his breath until Sam managed to prop him on the edge of the tub.
"What did you do?" he asked with a shake of his head.
"Got wasted. Why? Is that a you thing?"
"Your mighty coherent for how much you stink."
"One of my many talents," Tom said, imitating his voice.
"Don't do that."
"You said thank you to Harry. Should've said fuck you instead."
"Thanks for that by the way, making me face him."
"Though maybe saying that would have been a bad idea," Tom said, lost in thought. "Christine probably told him that once and he took it literally."
YOU ARE READING
Lose Control (The Jewel Project #5)
Adventure"It's never going to end, is it? The rivalry, the hatred, the madness. Not even now. Not even after so many years." It has been three years since the last jewel was recovered, and the Agency seems to have put the project to rest. They have a new tar...
