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“This won’t help, you know,” Lamb had told her frankly, back at the bar.
But what did he know of Louisa's needs? She’d smothered her anger at his words, his quiet certainty, and had simply shrugged in response.
They’d headed back to her place shortly afterwards. She was aware she’d have to wash the sheets in the morning, maybe scrub the floors for good measure, but her apartment was long overdue for a clean. Especially if she was moving soon.
Lamb took in the walls of her apartment with lazy disinterest, hands in his pockets. Louisa watched him suspiciously, wary of suddenly-appearing cigarettes. Before he could think to light one, she dropped her purse on the kitchen counter, fishing out the pills she kept in the front pocket and thrust them in his direction.
Eyebrows raised, he took the package. “Unsealed. Huh. Harper needed a little extra help in the bedroom, did he?”
“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Louisa asked, coldly.
Lamb blinked at her. “Maybe not. Use your imagination.” Then, ripping open the packet, he swallowed two pills dry without bothering to look at the instructions. Conversationally, he added: “You’d best hope they make these strong. Nothing much happening under the belt anymore.”
She wasn’t surprised. The concept of Jackson Lamb having a functional penis, especially one he actually bothered to use, was ludicrous. The only reason that Louisa knew he did was because Min had known.
Hooking up with their boss had started off as a joke, something Louisa liked to tease him about in the bedroom – echoing the insults Lamb had spoken earlier that day. Then curiosity had bloomed into desire, and Louisa had allowed her boyfriend the exception.
At the time, Min hadn’t given any details. To be fair, she hadn’t tried that hard to get them out of him: convinced they’d have the time for him to tell her everything, once he felt like it. Now Min was a stain on the street, and Lamb was looking at her with something too close to pity for her liking.
“Let’s just get on with it,” Louisa said at last. Her skin prickled with discomfort, itching at the seams, and begging her to crawl out of it. There was no way to leave her body behind completely, not without following in her boyfriend’s footsteps and stepping out into the street. But thankfully, there were other routes to follow, and other ways out of herself.
“Oh, I’m afraid you’ll have to give me another…” He glanced at the package. “Thirty to sixty minutes before the magic happens.” He sniffed. “You got anything to drink?”
The wave of irritation came stronger this time. How had Min managed it?
“No,” she said automatically. Then, remembering what she had hiding in her freezer, and knowing Lamb too well to allow him to scour her kitchen for alcohol at his own pace, she corrected: “Yes. Fine.”
“Your idea,” he reminded her as he sat down on her couch. Another thing she’d have to wash afterwards. “No regrets now.”
What a stupid thing to say. These days, Louisa lived in a house built on regret. She breathed out almosts, her heart pumped with grief. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever escape the moment where Standish had appeared in her doorway, the older woman’s eyes soft and sorry. Saying, it’s about Min–
In the face of that, what was one more regret?
“No,” she said. “Of course not.” With a silent sigh, she went to look for a bottle.