He’d been grateful for Blue’s understanding on why he couldn’t stay. At a loss for better ideas, he drove straight home, parking his truck in his garage just in case Shiori showed up. Then he’d realized how ridiculous that was, because he had no intention of sitting in the dark the rest of the night. He settled on the couch with a soda and flipped through channels, needing something to hold his attention and distract him. Some station was running a marathon of Supernatural. Nothing in that series would remind him of Shiori. Or tonight. But once the fighting sequences started, he had to change to something else. Maybe he oughta grab a bottle and drink until he passed out. But he’d never used booze as a coping mechanism, and he wasn’t about to start now. Two hours after he’d sat down, he got back up and wandered through his house. He’d turned his phone off, and he turned it back on to see if he had any messages.
