“Well we’ll see if we can get any footage from the security cameras.” He takes down my cell and my work numbers. He thanks me, then slides his pad and pen back into the pocket of his jacket. Apparently we’re donehere.
“What now?” Scott asks the question on the tip of mytongue.
“We’ll let you know when we have some more information. You have some place to spend the night? Maybe with your lawyer friend here? I don’t think the techs will be done until tomorrowafternoon.”
“Uh, you can crash with me,” Scott offers. I don’t respond, but that sounds good enough for DetectiveCohill.
“I’ll be in touch,” he says with a final nod. Then he turns and heads for theexit.
“Hold on. Wait,” I say as I hop off the hospital bed. My ankle burns, and I ignore it. “Someonehiredhim to kill me. Are you going to look intothat?”
Cohill looks over his shoulder. He hesitates a moment. Licks his lips. Looks at Scott in that way men look at each other when they think a woman is being hysterical. “Uh, well…” He steps back toward my bed. “We will definitely look into it, but right now it looks like you’re prettylucky.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Isay.
“By your account, someone broke into your place and you defendedyourself.”
“By your account. Right. So open and shut case.” Scott says as he lets out his own loud sigh and runs his hands through his slick black hair. “You know that’s bullshit right? I mean at least pretend you believe her. We all know what the Dorrits are like. You can’t say Dorrit Jr. is above any ofthis.”
Cohill shrugs while simultaneously nodding in agreement. “Like, I said. We’re gonna do our best to get to the bottom of this. Get some rest. And we’ll be in touch. We’ll probably have you in to talk to the D.A. pretty soon. You’ll hear from us.” He’s done then. He turns and walks away forgood.
“Can you believe that fucking guy?” Scott says as Cohill pushes through the exit’s doubledoors.
“Shockingly, Ican.”
“Let me go see if I can get you out of here. You don’t have to crash at my place. I just wanted to get him off yourback.”
I blink, then look up at Scott. I try to at least. My eyes aren’t focusing on his face.“I want to crash at your place.” I say. “If you don’t mind. He—this dude bled out on myfloor.”
“Fuck,” Scott breathes and then he steps in front of me. I do my best not to shrug him off as he puts both his hands on my shoulders. “Are youokay?”
“No,” I say. I think of my best friend. I think of Claudia and her near brush with death. How she escaped not one, but two deranged serial killers nearly two years ago. I think of how I tried to sympathize with her. I know about survivor's guilt. I know what it’s like to bury a loved one or two. This is something else. I scan Scott’s face. He doesn’t understand, he can’t understand for a whole host of reasons, but I think he genuinelycares.
He gives my shoulders a firm squeeze. “I’ll be rightback.”
He finds the right nurse. I sign some more papers. Thank God for my quality insurance. We walk out those same double doors into the still boiling hot night. I’m still shivering when our cab pullsup.
Two
Isleep fitfullyon Scott’s couch in one of his Harvard law shirts and a pair of his oversized shorts. He offers me his bed, but I don’t want it. Some part of me feels like I’m not ready for that kind of comfort. I’m in the middle of something. Something that’s just started. I’ll get the rest I really need when this is all over. If it’s ever over. I do want to sleep, but every time I close my eyes a burst of adrenaline wakes me up. My fight or flight response has been activated and I can’t turn it off. No nightmares, just a feeling. A sick, sick feeling of tripping andfalling.
I can still feel him attacking me. I still feel like I’m fighting for my life. And every time I wake up and I manage to calm my breathing and my pounding heart, my hand is clenched in the worst fist. My nails are digging into my palm. Eventually my body forces itself to shut down. Still, I don’t sleep well at all and when I do eventually wake up a little while after sunrise, my whole body issore.
When Scott wakes up he offers to go back to my place with me. I want to tell him no, but the part of my brain that’s in control tells him yes. I need to see if I can at least get back into my apartment to get a few things like my laptop. I wait for him to get dressed and he snags us a cab. I look at my phone as we drive uptown. Scott’s on the phone with a client, talking loud enough that our driver keeps looking at him in the mirror. I look at all the alerts I’ve been ignoring. Messages and texts from the girls. A voicemail from my landlord, Mrs. Watt. More texts and chats fromBrookie.
I hate lying to my sister, but I know her. I know what Brooklyn will do. I’m afraid to tell her the truth. She and I are two sides of the same coin. The same fiercely protective coin. We’ll do anything for each other. We’ll do anything for our friends. But where I’m cautious and calculating, Brooklyn is fearless. Sometime I envy that fearlessness. She looks, sometimes, but she always leaps. The joys of being the youngest. I hate lying to her, but I can’t tell her the truth when I finally look at her messages that are waiting for me. I’m not sure that I’m not still in danger and I know Brook. She’ll put herself in harm’s way just because she’s my sister. I know I can’t let thathappen.
My thumb moves over my screen and I open our group chat. The girls encourage Rayna to see her ex if she thinks it’s a good idea and if she isn’t at risk of doing something like catching feelings for him when she should just be using him as a dick appointment to stave off the loneliness. We can all relate to the loneliness. They ask where I went. Noa suggests I probably fell asleep. They move onto other things. Work, TV, more about men. The conversation winds down to Noa and Rayna talking about an article they both read in the Post. This is normal. This is how the conversation is supposed to go. I should have been there having this conversation with them. There should not have been a man in myapartment.
I look at the time stamps. Brook is the first to chime in thismorning.
Brookie:Hot guy at my coffeespot.
Wanna grab hisbutt.
Lizzie come get me if they lock meup.
There are more alerts.I click over to the chat that I share with just my sister. My fingers hesitate. I want to tell her what happened. I want to tell her everything. But I’m not ready. Brook is something different to me. A safe space. I don’t want to let this thing enter that space. I don’t want to ruin this peace that took us years to claw our way back to. I know exactly what she’ll think. I know she’ll wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t fought back the way I did. She’ll wonder what would have happened if she lost me too. I start totype.