"Nothing. We just--"
"You said you're hurt. He did something. Fuck, if he--"
"Jack, I'm fine. It was just normal relationship issues. You start seeing someone and realize you have different expectations, and it doesn't work out. It hurts, but there's nothing that can be done about that. Part of life." I met his gaze. "A part that I don't need you to fix for me."
Silence. Another five minutes of driving with no apparent destination in mind.
"Jack, just drop me off and I'll--"
"Gotta talk," he said.
I sighed. "If your plan was drive until I'm ready to talk about Aldrich again--"
"Won't say a word about Aldrich. Or Amy. Or even Quinn. Just me."
"You?"
"Yeah. Gonna talk about me." He glanced over. "That a problem?"
"Of course not. If there's something I can help you with, you know you only need to ask."
He grunted something unintelligible and kept driving.
CHAPTER 7
When Jack said he wanted to talk to me, I figured we'd have a conversation in the car. Or, if he expected it might take a while, we'd pull off somewhere or check into a motel. I did not expect to end up twenty miles outside of Cleveland, pulled over on a dirt road, then hiking into the forest by that road with cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey.
"Is this a conversation or a body dump?" I asked as we climbed over a fence.
"Wouldn't need this for a dump," he said, lifting the smokes and booze.
"Sure, you would . . . if you planned to shoot me, dowse me with alcohol, and light me on fire."
"Not today."
"So we really are heading into the forest for a chat?"
He shrugged. "Don't feel like talking and driving. This?" He waved. "Like the lodge."
Almost all our early conversations had taken place in my forest. We even had a particular fallen tree we'd sit on. That was back in the days before our first case together, when Jack was still sussing me out under the guise of mentoring. He would come at night and we'd sit in the forest and talk. Which didn't make the present circumstances any less odd, really, but that was Jack.
He let the professional nature guide lead the way. I picked a route through until I found a suitable fallen tree in a clearing. Night was falling slowly, but I could already see the bright moon through the cloudless sky so I knew we wouldn't be sitting in the pitch black when the sun disappeared.
"Here?" I asked.
He nodded. We sat. Two minutes later, we were still sitting. Then Jack lit a cigarette. He took a drag and passed it to me. I accepted it. We'd smoked half the cigarette in silence before he said, "Don't know how to do this."
"You don't need to tell me anything you don't want to."
"Want to. Just . . ." Another drag. "You know that saying? About riding a bike? Remember this spring? At the lodge? You took me for a bike ride."
I sputtered a laugh at the memory.
"Yeah," he said. "Maybe people don't forget how to do it. But it's not as easy as it sounds. Not when it's been so long." He let the smoke swirl away before continuing. "Never told anyone this. Not even Evelyn. Sure she knows some. Dug until she found it. But knows better than to mention it. I don't talk about this. Don't talk about anything. Except to you."
He slanted a look my way. "Yeah, I know. You don't feel like I tell you anything, either. Like I just let stuff slip. Don't slip. It's a choice. Want to say more. But . . ." He shrugged. "Not easy. Presumes you want to know. Seems . . ." He struggled for the right word. "Forward."
"I'd never--"