Rory
Dray asked if I wanted to see where he actually spent his weekends, and something in the careful, almost nervous way he phrased it told me this wasn't a place he brought people to casually.
It came up on a Saturday, unplanned, both of us finding ourselves at loose ends after a work call ran shorter than expected. He'd hesitated before asking, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, watching me with an expression I hadn't fully learned to read yet on him — something closer to nerves than the careful confidence he usually carried into every decision.
"It's not much," he said, pulling up outside a nondescript warehouse on the edge of the city, nothing about the building's exterior suggesting anything beyond storage space. "Just somewhere I go when the rest of it gets to be too much."
T
