Chapter 7: Byte

BYTE

"What the hell?" I shouted when we walked out to my truck the following morning. All four tires were flat.

"Did someone slash them?" Gabby asked.

"Yeah, that's exactly what happened."

She glanced at the time on her phone and back to me. She didn't have to say anything. Her thoughts were written all over her face. She didn't want to be late, but she didn't want to leave me to deal with the tires.

"Come on," I said and guided her back to the house. "We'll take your car, and I'll deal with this when I get back." Thankfully, her car had been safely parked in the garage.

Gabby was unusually quiet on the ride to the office. I had a feeling she was blaming herself for what happened to my truck, and I couldn't let her continue to do so for the whole day. Before she got out of the car, I reached over and grabbed her hand. "This isn't your fault."

"Yes, it is," she said quietly.

"No, it isn't," I insisted. "I get why you think it is, but trust me on this. It's actually kind of a good thing."

"How in the hell is having your tires slashed a good thing?"

"Typically, tire slashing is an act of rage. Angry people are sloppy, and sloppy people are easy to catch," I explained, and gently squeezed her hand. "Go do your thing, and don't worry about this. I'll have it all taken care of before I come back to get you."

"I'll try," she said and gave me a weak smile. "Thanks, Byte."

I called Phoenix as soon as I pulled out of the parking lot and filled him in on the new developments.

"He slashed your tires? What a bitch move," Phoenix said.

I chuckled. "That's exactly what I thought."

"How'd Gabby handle it?"

"I think she's blaming herself, but otherwise, she took it in stride."

"She's a sweet girl, but she's strong, too. You said she's off tomorrow, right?" he asked.

"Right. She's off Friday and Monday and works the weekend."

"Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'll send one of the guys with a tow truck to get your truck. When you pick Gabby up this afternoon, I want the two of you to come back to Croftridge. In the meantime, I want you to pick up a couple of cameras and get them hooked up to her system. Try to keep them as inconspicuous as possible."

"You got it, Prez."

Gabby looked absolutely drained when I picked her up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired," she said and changed the subject. "Did you get your truck fixed?"

"Phoenix sent a tow truck to pick it up and take it back to the garage. He also wants us to come back to Croftridge for the night."

"Do we need to leave right away or can we stop by the house first?" she asked.

"We can go back to your house first. There's no rush," I said and opened my mouth to say more but decided against it.

"What were you going to say?" Gabby asked.

"Now, who's the observant one?" I teased.

"Me. Now, what was it?"

"I was going to say something about how nice it is that you go with the flow instead of arguing with whatever plan we've come up with."

"It would be stupid of me to argue. You guys have dealt with plenty of crazy-ass people over the years. I haven't. Besides, I promised my sister I'd go to the club if anything happened. This is me keeping that promise," she explained.

"You're a good person, Gabriella Marks," I said sincerely.

"Thank you," she started and paused. "What's your real name?"

Every part of me wanted to tell her my real name, the one I was born with, not the one I gave myself when I left my old life behind at the age of fourteen. But I couldn't. So, I swallowed thickly and told her the lie that had become my truth. "Michael. Michael Fuller."

"Michael," she said slowly. "That doesn't seem right."

I laughed. It didn't seem right because it wasn't, but I couldn't tell her that. "It's because you're used to calling me Byte, like everyone else."

"I guess I'll stick with Byte then," she said as I parked her car in the garage and closed the door. "I need to shower and pack a bag. It'll probably take me thirty minutes to be ready to go."

"Take your time. We can leave whenever you're ready."

She was ready almost exactly thirty minutes later, and she didn't look any better than she did when I picked her up. In fact, I thought she looked worse. Her skin was pale with some darkness underneath her eyes. Then she fell asleep as soon as we hit the highway.

"Gabby, we're here," I said softly and reached over to gently shake her shoulder.

"Yeah, okay," she mumbled.

"Gabby, wake up," I said a bit louder.

Her head shot up, and she looked around in confusion. "What? What's going on?"

I chuckled. "You fell asleep."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said and wiped her hand over her face.

"You don't need to apologize for being tired. Come on, let's go inside. I'll get your bag for you."

"Is that Flint's truck?" she asked as we walked to the front door.

"Yeah. He's been staying here taking care of the chickens."

I opened the door and started to step inside but halted in my tracks when a large black and white dog appeared in front of me. It wasn't barking or growling, but it wasn't giving off friendly vibes either.

Gabby peeked around me. "Aw, look at the pretty little doggy," she cooed. Before I could stop her, she moved around me and went straight for the dog.

"Gabby, stop!" I shouted. She wasn't wrong. The dog was beautiful. It was also huge and unfamiliar. I didn't know if it would roll over for a belly rub or rip her to shreds.

At the sound of my raised voice, the dog placed itself between the two of us and started growling. At me.

"You scared him," Gabby scolded.

Flint rounded the corner and took in the scene. "It's okay, boy," he said and snapped his fingers. The dog growled once more before dutifully retreating to Flint's side.

"When did you get a dog?" I asked.

Flint shifted uncomfortably. "I noticed him hanging around the edge of your property a few days ago. He looked pretty rough when I first saw him, so I brought him inside, gave him a bath, and fed him. I've posted about him everywhere, but I haven't been able to find his owners."

"Can I pet him?" Gabby asked excitedly.

"Yes, he's friendly," Flint said.

"He didn't seem very friendly just now," I grumbled.

"Maybe he doesn't like you," Gabby said and stuck out her tongue.

Flint laughed. "I think he was just defending what he considers his territory. He's shown no signs of aggression, even with food."

"He's a big baby," Gabby said. I couldn't help but laugh. She was sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor with what appeared to be a giant pit bull in her lap. She had both arms wrapped around him while her head rested on his back. "Are you going to keep him?"

Flint shrugged. "I hadn't planned on it."

"What are you going to do with him?"

"I was hoping I'd find his owners. I haven't thought about it beyond that."

She turned her attention to me. "What about you? You took in stray chickens. How do you feel about a dog?"

"Hold that thought. Flint, come with me," I said and motioned for him to follow me outside.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"I want to try something," I said and walked around to my back door. I waited a few minutes before I loudly knocked on the door. The dog started barking and appeared at the door moments later.

I grinned. "Yeah, I think I'm okay with him hanging around for a while."

"So, you want me to leave him here?" Flint asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I was going to head out since you're home," he said.

"You don't have to leave unless you want to. We're only here for the night."

"Stay and hang out," Gabby added. "It's been a while since I've seen you."

Flint laughed. "You don't have to ask me twice. The beds here are much more comfortable than the one I have at home."

Gabby nodded with a grin. "Yes, they are. I fell asleep as soon as I sat down the last time I was here."

"You can thank Keegan. She picked them out."

"My sister picked out your beds?" Gabby asked in surprise.

"Actually, I think your grandmother helped, too."

"How did that happen?"

I shrugged. "Right after I bought this place, I realized I had no idea how to furnish it, so I asked Keegan for help." Truthfully, I'd lived with the bare minimum for years, so when I finally bought a house, I wanted it to feel like a home. Keegan and Shaker's place had always felt like a home, so I thought she was the perfect person to ask.

For some strange reason, the fact that I hadn't known how to decorate my house on my own made me feel vulnerable, so I changed the subject. "Who's hungry?"

"Me!" Gabby and Flint said at the same time.

We ordered pizza and started watching a movie after we ate, but Gabby fell asleep within the first fifteen minutes. I knew she was tired, so I carried her to bed and went back downstairs to finish the movie with Flint.

"Does Gabby usually sleep this late?" Flint asked.

I glanced at the time and realized it was close to eleven. "I'm not sure, but based on the few days I've spent with her, I'm going to say no. I'll go check on her."

I knocked on the door a few times, but she didn't answer. I slowly opened the door and stepped inside to find her asleep in bed. "Gabby," I called. She didn't budge. "Gabby," I said again and walked to the side of the bed. Placing my hand on her shoulder, I gently jostled her. "Gabby, wake up."

She blinked her eyes open and looked at me in confusion. "Byte?" she croaked and started coughing.

"Sorry. It's after eleven, and I didn't know if you wanted to sleep this late. Are you okay?"

She started to sit up and quickly dropped back onto the pillow. "I'm not sure. I don't feel very good."

I placed my hand on her forehead and was shocked at how warm she felt. "I think you might be running a fever."

She sniffled and coughed again. "Do you have a thermometer?"

"Yeah, just a minute," I said, then hurried to my bathroom to retrieve it.

When I returned, Gabby had propped herself up in bed, and she looked awful. Her pale skin, coupled with the darkness under her glassy eyes, had my concern growing.

"Maybe we should call Patch," I suggested.

"It's probably just a cold," she said, and placed the thermometer under her tongue.

I was by no means an expert, but I was pretty sure she had more than the common cold. My suspicion was confirmed when the thermometer beeped. "One hundred and four point two."

"What?" Gabby gasped. "No, that can't be right."

"It is," I said and showed her the number displayed on the digital screen. "I'm calling Patch."

"Fine," she said and covered her mouth when she started coughing again.

Her response surprised me. I expected her to refuse and was ready to argue my point. Instead, I nodded once and stepped out of the room to call Patch.

After explaining the situation and sharing Gabby's symptoms, he asked me to bring her to his office so he could examine her. She didn't want to go, but I told her she didn't have a choice. She could go willingly, or she could be carried to the truck and driven there, but she was going.

"Fine," she huffed and got out of bed to get dressed. She took two steps and started to sway. I reached out to steady her and guided her back to the bed.

"You don't need to change. You're sick and going to the doctor. No one cares what you're wearing."

"I care," she grumbled. "Will you get my brush out of my bag? I'm at least going to brush my hair. And I'd like to brush my teeth, too."

I helped her brush her hair and get it pulled back into a low ponytail. Then I brought her a cup of water, an empty cup, her toothbrush, and toothpaste so she could brush her teeth without having to get out of bed.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"I guess not," she sighed and moved to stand.

"Let me help you," I insisted and looped my arm under hers.

Flint gasped at the sight of her when we made it to the bottom of the stairs. "What's going on?"

"She's sick. I'm taking her to Patch's place."

"Anything I can do to help?" he offered.

"Yeah, get the doors for me," I said and scooped Gabby into my arms. She had enough trouble walking down the stairs. I didn't want to push it by having her walk to the truck when I was perfectly capable of carrying her.

I had to wake her when we reached Patch's office. I offered to carry her, but she insisted on walking inside. Thankfully, he was waiting for us and took us back to a room right away.

"Well, kiddo, you look like hell," he said as soon as she was situated on the exam table.

"I feel like it," she admitted.

He held up a tube with a long cotton swab. "Let's see if my suspicions are correct. You know the drill."

Gabby frowned but tilted her head back so Patch could swab her nose. He handed the specimen to a nurse I hadn't seen enter the room and told her to run it immediately. While she was gone, he listened to Gabby's lungs and checked her ears, eyes, nose, and throat.

He'd just finished when the nurse knocked on the door. She stepped inside to whisper something to Patch and quickly left the room.

"Congratulations, sweetheart. You have the flu," Patch said.

"But I had the flu shot," Gabby argued weakly.

Patch chuckled. "You know as well as I do that it only covers a few strains. Besides, we're almost at the end of flu season. If you got the vaccine at the beginning, it's probably worn off by now."

"I don't have time for this," Gabby said, sounding as if she was on the verge of tears. "I have school and work."

"I'll write you some prescriptions to start today. You're young and healthy, so you should only be down for a few days," Patch told her. "Do you need a note for school and work?"

"Yes, for work. I don't have school until Tuesday, so maybe."

"I'll give you one for both, just in case," Patch said.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Go home and get into bed. Rest and drink plenty of fluids."

"I'll take you back to my house and then go pick up your prescriptions," I told her once we were back in the truck. "Do you want anything particular from the store? Like drinks and snacks?"

"Will you get me some berry Propel, ginger ale, and Cheez-Its?"

"I'll get whatever you need," I told her sincerely. I'd felt helpless all morning. Being able to fulfill a simple request made me feel like I was helping, even if it was minimal.

"Do you have acetaminophen? If not, I'll need that, too."

"If I do, it's probably old, so I'll get a new bottle while I'm at the store."

"Thank you," she said softly.

Flint opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch when he heard us in the driveway. "What did Patch say?"

"She has the flu," I told him as I helped Gabby out of the truck and into the house.

"I can go to the store if you need anything," he offered.

"Actually, that'd be great. Her prescriptions need to be picked up, as well as a few other things. I'll text you a list as soon as I get her in bed." It was a relief when Flint volunteered to go to the store for me. I hadn't realized how much I didn't want to leave Gabby's side until he did.

I also hadn't noticed the dog following along closely behind us until he jumped onto the bed and laid down beside Gabby. She placed her hand on his head and smiled weakly. "Maybe being sick won't be so bad if I get to cuddle with you."

As if he understood her words, the dog scooted closer and rested his head on her stomach. "Is it wrong of me to hope we don't find his owners?"

"Your intentions aren't malicious, so no, I don't think it's wrong."

"Okay," she whispered and closed her eyes.

"You should probably call your boss before you fall asleep," I reminded her.

"Right," she grimaced. "I hate calling in sick to work."

"Why? Will they give you a hard time?"

"No, nothing like that. I hate knowing they'll have to search for a nurse to replace me and might have to work short-staffed if they can't find someone," she admitted.

"That's better than you going to work sick, not providing your patients with proper care, and exposing everyone there to the flu."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," she said, and reached for her phone to make the call.

"Do you need to notify anyone from school?" I asked when she was finished.

She shook her head. "Not yet. I'll wait until Monday and email my instructor if I'm still sick."

I didn't think she would be well enough by Tuesday to go to her clinical, but I kept my opinion to myself.

When she yawned and closed her eyes, I got up to leave the room, intending to wake her when Flint returned with her medicine. She reached out and managed to grab my hand without opening her eyes. "Will you stay?"

"If you want me to."

"I do," she almost whispered. Then she scooted herself and the dog over to make room for me. So, like a complete idiot, I climbed into bed beside her and wrapped my arm around her when she snuggled against my chest. Then she let out a contented sigh. And as hard as I tried, I couldn't ignore how right it felt having her in my arms.

I jolted awake and looked around in confusion for a few seconds before I realized I had fallen asleep in my guest room with Gabby. She rolled to her side, mumbled something I couldn't make out, rolled back, and groaned as if she was in pain. The dog was still on the bed, but he was sitting up, watching every move she made. She continued to roll around, and I tried to decide if I should let her be or wake her. We'd been asleep for over two hours, but Patch did say she needed to rest. The decision was made for me when I placed my hand on her forehead. She was burning up and needed to take her medicine.

I slipped out of bed and went downstairs to find Flint watching television in the living room. "Everything you asked for is on the kitchen table. How's she doing?" he asked.

"Not good. She's tossing and turning, and I think her fever's gone up. I'll wake her up and get some of this medicine in her."

"Anything I can do?"

"Yes, but let me get her situated first," I said and grabbed all the bags from the table and took them upstairs with me.

Gabby wasn't easy to wake, but I managed to rouse her long enough to take her temperature and give her the medications Patch prescribed, as well as acetaminophen for her fever. I got her to drink half a bottle of the Propel she requested before she refused to have any more.

"I just want to sleep," she mumbled and closed her eyes.

"Go ahead. I'll come back and check on you in a little bit."

She patted the bed beside her. "Where's my dog?"

Once again, the dog seemed to understand her and snuggled up beside her.

Before I knew what I was doing, I leaned over and kissed her forehead. Realization dawned as my lips brushed across her skin, and I flew out of the room like my ass was on fire.

"So, what do you need me to do?" Flint asked when I returned to the living room.

"I need you to go to Gabby's house and get her a few changes of clothes. She's going to be here for a few days at least."

"No problem. Do you have her keys?"

"Yes, but there are some things you need to know first," I said, and proceeded to fill him in on everything going on with Gabby.

Flint wasn't gone long, maybe an hour and a half at most. I spent the entire time pacing around the house and trying to find things to keep myself occupied. I knew Flint could handle himself if something happened, but I didn't want him to have to.

When he walked through the back door carrying two large bags, I breathed a sigh of relief. "Did everything go okay?"

"Yeah, it was fine. Nothing seemed out of place. As I was leaving, a girl named Lauren pulled into the driveway. She said she'd been trying to get in touch with Gabby for a few days and wanted to know where she was."

"Shit. What did you tell her?"

"I told her Gabby was in Croftridge for the weekend. She wanted to know why and what I was doing at her house. I told her I didn't know why Gabby was in Croftridge and that I was sent to pick up a few things for her," he explained. "When I asked who she was, she said she was a friend from school."

"Yeah, I met her when she came over to Gabby's house a few days ago to study."

"She gave me her phone number," he said.

"She did?"

"Yeah," Flint chuckled. "She asked if I was seeing anyone. When I said no, she handed me a piece of paper with her phone number on it and told me to call her. Then she winked at me before she got into her car and drove away."

"Are you going to call her?"

"Hell no," he laughed. "I could tell from the few minutes I talked to her that she wasn't my type. She's too pushy and seemed to lack boundaries."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I got the same feeling from her."