her life helping them out of Daisy Place and on to wherever. And you don’t need to be involved in it either.” Tucker’s voice broke a little. He thought of the amount of work he had to do, of being trapped in this house for his entire life. Of being caught under a hard and never-ending rain of spirits that would one day drown him.
Angel was suddenly there, between Tucker and the wall, facing him with grave eyes.
“You’re not alone,” she said, pulling her hair behind her, where it would fall in a gentle golden puddle, Tucker was sure.
Tucker reached over to stroke her cheek, wondering if it would be soft, and his heart broke a little when his fingertips passed through her skin. There was a sudden meowing and a scrabble up the side of the bed, and Squishbeans curled up to make a nest in Tucker’s hair, kneading with comforting claws and purring.
“Thanks, Angel,” he murmured, and then he fell asleep.
Josh woke him up with water, and then Andy was there with juice, both of them careful not to dislodge Squishbeans, who had taken up residence on his chest. Angel was conspicuously absent when they were there—he wondered if it was so they wouldn’t talk to each other and freak Andy or his father out, but that was all he could wonder about before he fell asleep again.
A few hours later, Rae Greenaway was there with soup, and Tucker tried to stay awake long enough to thank her and to tell the family they didn’t need to worry about their crazy neighbor with his freaky, nonspecific, exhausting ailments.
But he managed to drink a little bit of cooling soup, mumble something about how his shoes were still on, and then fall asleep once more.
He woke up in the morning wearing nothing but his boxers, with a little tray of juice and water by the bed. Angel was sitting on the chair that the Greenaway family had been using, peering at him worriedly through anxious green eyes.
“What’s up, Angel?” he slurred. Then he squinted. “And hello, leather daddy of my dreams.”
“Goddammit,” Angel muttered, and then the big, bald, burly motorcycle guy in leathers disappeared, leaving the male Angel with the reddish hair and freckles in his place. “How are you feeling?”
“Horny,” Tucker muttered, just to mess with her—him. “What was with the getup?”
Angel grunted, the sound particularly suited to this version of him. “I wanted someone you would find less vulnerable. I wasn’t sure you trusted me as a woman.”
“I trusted you to save my life,” Tucker said honestly. “I trusted you to watch over me. Why would you think I didn’t trust you?”
Angel shook his head and looked abashed. “You seemed to need the Greenaway family an awful lot.”
Oh. Tucker tried to struggle to a sitting position, but he realized that whatever had been left over from the hideous, excruciating dermal burns had pretty much knocked him on his ass.
Well, there was no reason to let Angel see that.
“I didn’t mean to need them this much,” he said, feeling foolish. “You told me to call them, remember?”
Angel narrowed his eyes, and Tucker had to admit he looked scarier when he did that in this form than he had as a buxom blond. But that didn’t mean he’d taken this version of Angel more or less seriously than the other version.
“Don’t look at me that way,” Tucker responded obstinately. “You know it’s true.”
“I didn’t mean you should make eyes at Andover and try to wiggle into their family like a tick!” Angel argued.
“Well, that was unexpected for me too.” Tucker tried not to pout, because it had been wonderful as well. “Please, I promise I won’t tell them the family secrets, but….” He thought of all those college friends who had wandered away. All of the dates he’d broken because he was going to sleep somewhere else that night, all of the people who had gotten married and moved on, moved out of downtown, gotten too busy to write.
Who kept tabs on a grown man who couldn’t seem to keep his fly zipped even if it meant letting down his friends?
“But what?” Angel prompted.
He felt so weak. “Don’t make me give them back.” God, he missed family. He missed talking to his mom as she made cookies, and awkward games of catch with his dad. They’d been older, but they’d been kind, and they’d been there for Tucker his entire childhood. He guessed he was spoiled that way, but he