He smiles in return, not a happy smile. It's more of a grateful smile that I'm starting to listen to him because we both know that we need each other right now and if we don't work together, we could lose each other.
The fear of losing him makes me even more determined to just follow what he does, knowing despite everything that he just wants what's best for me.
"The guy- the guy who attacked you," he pauses as I watch and study his every move, waiting for some kind of hint as to what he's going to say.
"Did you recognise him?" My face instantly drops as I hear the words. This means that he must, he must recognise him.
My mind feels overrun with so many thoughts as to who he could be and how Nick might know him, who I've killed.
"No, no I don't. Nick, who is he?" I ask desperately even though I'm dreading finding out the answer.
He looks up as he continues, "You remember what I was telling you a few weeks ago, about Steph?"
I feel my breath hitch in my mouth as I register what he said.
"It's Jamie, her ex. The guy who err, who put those photos online."
As he says the words, I feel a single tear drop down my face. I don't know why, it shouldn't make any difference to me. He was evil for what he did to me and finding out what he did to Steph just makes him more evil.
But, hearing his name, finding out who he is just makes it more real.
He is a real person, was a real person. A real person who I murdered.
"Nick, what do we do?" I look to him, begging him to take charge, to do something, to save me. Just like he always does. He saves me.
This time won't be any different.
"Hang on a minute," he says as he stands up once again and begins to make his way back over to Jamie's body.
As soon as his arms have left me, I feel suddenly empty again, lost. I feel a void. My body feels cold from where he previously had his arms wrapped around me.
I look up to see him desperately searching through Jamie's pockets.
I don't know what he's looking for but I have a feeling I'm not going to like it.
As he turns back, I see what he has in his hands.
He moves back over to me and opens the brown tattered leather wallet that he had found in his coat, which leaves me even more confused.
"Nick, what are you doing?" I ask him, trying to understand why he'd need his wallet.
"This." He replies vaguely as he pulls out a small piece of laminated white card which I can only presume is his ID.
"Davidson's apartment block, Queen Street, floor 2, apartment 7, Manchester." He says triumphantly as the realisation of what he just read out hits me at full force.
"Why do we need to know that?" I ask even though I know the answer. I know why we need his address. I know what Nick wants us to do.