Page 83 of The Rut in the Road

“I am being a responsible adult and going to work, like I said I would,” I told both of them, not understanding why this was sodifficult for them to understand. “I am not dying. I am capable of driving a car.”

“You arenotdriving,” Raj interrupted.

I glared at him.

“If you’re going to insist upon this,Iwill drive.”

I closed my eyes, drawing in a long, deep breath, the way Mason had explained I should do to keep my emotions under control. In this case, irritation. Extreme irritation. “You also have to go to work,” I told him, but even as I said it, I realized that he should have left at least an hour ago.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression serious. “Icalled out.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from saying something rude. Specifically, from pointing out that if I didn’t go to work, nothing significant happened. Ifhedidn’t, someone might be murdered who otherwise wouldn’t have been. And there was no point in him not going to work, because I was.

He blew out a huff through his nose. “I’ll go in while you’re at work,” he replied shortly. “Given that this séance is supposed to last for five hours.” He grimaced. “Whyis it five hours?” he asked.

I sighed. “Because Mrs. Van Dyre wants to contact multiple generations of her family,” I replied. “So that she can commune with them on All Hallow’s Eve.”

“So that she can… what?” Vi asked.

I shrugged. “That’s what she said,” I told them. They both stared at me. “I don’t actually know what it means,” I admitted. “Ward said it didn’t matter because she has the magical ability of a particularly mundane rock.”

Vi snickered, and even Raj’s lips twitched behind his dark beard. He sighed. “I will take you to work, then drive you and Ward to your séance, and then after five hours, I will pick you up and drop him off again.”

It was probably the best I was going to get, although I was a bit annoyed that he was telling me, not asking or even offering. “Fine.” I didn’t bother concealing the resentment in my voice.

Vi looked back and forth between us for a second. “You’ll take care of him?” she asked Raj, which irritated me even more.

He nodded, although the glance he gave me seemed to suggest that he understood that I was getting angrier by the second. “Of course,” he told her. “Always.”

She sighed, then walked up to me and threw her arms around me. “Be careful, okay, bro?”

I couldn’t help hugging her back. “I’ll be fine,” I told her. “Drive safe, and I’ll see you next week.” She let go. “And good luck on your test.”

She flashed me a smirk. “I’ll be fine,” she echoed, then walked out of the kitchen. Raj glanced at me, then followed her.

I leaned heavily against the counter, finally pouring coffee into the mug, letting the action of pouring stir the creamer into it. I sipped as I listened to the sounds of Raj’s and Violette’s voices, although I couldn’t tell what they were saying as Vi gathered up her things and Raj walked her to the door. I heard it open, then close.

I didn’t hear him come back into the kitchen, but that no longer surprised me. Raj was silent on his feet, whether in shoes, socks, or—like now—barefoot. He was otherwise fully dressed, wearing a pair of dark-washed jeans and a navy polo shirt striped with thin lines of orange. I waited, sipping my coffee.

“She’s worried about you,” he said, finally.

“So are you,” I pointed out.

He sighed. “I don’t want to argue about this,” he said, then.

I looked up at him. I didn’t particularly want to argue about it either. Or maybe I did? I was angry, but even I wasn’t entirely certain what I was angry about or at whom I wanted to direct it. “I’m going to work,” I told him.

He didn’t look happy, but he nodded.

I should have been glad that we weren’t going to keep arguing about it, but I mostly just felt exhausted and irritated. And my head still hurt.

The doctor had told me that I could take acetaminophen or ibuprofen if I needed to, and I had, although it hadn’t actually done much of anything, and there were another three hours before I could take more.

I sipped more coffee.

“You should eat breakfast,” he said, then.

I thought about that. One of the nurses had said that sometimes concussions came with nausea. I didn’t feel particularly nauseous at the moment, but I hadn’t tried eating anything yet today. I wasn’t really hungry. The coffee didn’t seem to be bothering me, though, and it was a way to compromise with Raj.