by Cole Baxter
What I wondered was whether it had been there all along. Had he thought the same way when I was nineteen? Had he wanted to strangle me to death then? It hadn't really happened then. He had been sweet and kind and lovely then.
I realized, as I thought about it, that he hadn't been. There had been nights he wanted to try things, just to experiment, he'd said. There had been times he wanted to just try things and told me that it was just for a moment or two and that I shouldn't worry.
I realized what he had been doing now. He was trying to see what I would and wouldn't do. He was feeling out whether I would be a good subservient partner.
I should have run then. I should have run when I had the chance, and I could have avoided all of this. I hated myself now. I hated how weak I was and how in love I had been.
That was something I had trouble saying out loud. It was hard to remember that once, I did love him. Once, we were wildly in love, and once, I would have done anything for him. I really did want to make a life with him. I'd had plans for our future, and they involved children and growing old and gray on the front porch together.
I realized now that Devon may not have had those plans. He may have planned to get rid of me as soon as possible. As soon as the sex wasn't good, he may have planned to just kill me from the beginning.
What a horrible thought. What a horrible person.
I decided to go back to the front desk and demand to know why they had done this. What was wrong with them? No one would advocate for me. I was the only one who would stand up for myself.
I picked up my coffee and left the shop. Someone held the door for me, and then I saw them make the connection on the TV.
No. I wasn't going to do this. I wasn't going to be my usual polite self and answer any questions they had. I would keep going. I wasn't an object of their amusement. I was a person, and I had things I needed to take care of.
"Excuse me," I said as I marched to the front desk. "Excuse me. I have something to complain about. I need to see the manager."
The old me would have never done something like this, but I didn't care. The old me was perhaps not as strong. But bones that break knit stronger than they had been before, and I would knit stronger than ever before. I would be that bone and I would be stronger.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Blake
“You will come into the office, and you will come right now."
I heard Sam's voice on the other end of the phone, and I knew I was in trouble. He was rarely so angry that he spoke to me or anyone in such a tone.
And I knew exactly what it was about. I had been home about two hours, and I was pretty much sober. I hated my body because I had such a high tolerance that it wore off quickly. I was basically ready to do some work after being blind drunk at Devon's parents’, and I guessed Sam decided that work would be in HQ.
"Sam . . ." I said. "It's almost the end of the day. I'll come in tomorrow."
"No," he said. "You will come in now. You have some things to answer for."
"Why?" I played innocent.
"Why?" he practically exploded. "You know why."
"Sam," I heard Anna's voice in the background, and I actually laughed out loud.
"Listen to your partner, Sam, before you have a heart attack."
"No," he said. "Come. Now."
I knew there was no way out of this, so I simply sighed.
“Okay, whatever," I said. I would have to face the music eventually, so I might as well go in while I was still slightly tanked.
I took a quick shower, so I didn't totally reek of alcohol, and then I headed into headquarters.
Sam and Anna were standing at the front of the office, and Sam did not look happy.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked me when he saw me.
"Excuse me?" I said. "That's not the best way to greet me."
"I don't care," he said. "The Whitmans are in the conference room and they're not happy."
"Of course, they're not happy," I answered. "I told them the truth and they didn't like it."
"What you told them was some speculative drunken bullshit," he answered.
"No," I said. "I told them the truth. Just because we don't have the evidence to back it up yet doesn't mean—"
"Blake, you might not have a job after this," he said. "Has that reality sunk in yet?"
"It doesn't matter," I said.
"Really? Then how will you pay for the booze?" he asked me.
Anna shoved him and something passed between them. It was silent communication and I felt like I was back three years. I saw Lola and me standing there and not using a single word to communicate.
I used to rejoice in doing that with her. I figured that was how you knew you had chosen the right partner, when you could communicate so efficiently and so wonderfully without a single word.
I missed her so much. The only reason my heart wasn't completely ice right now was because of Laurie. I hoped that she was all right. I hadn't been in the right frame of mind to check in with her yet, but I assumed she would be fine for a few hours. The hotel was safe. Or at least, I assumed it was. Hotels were really good at keeping unwanted people out of their rooms, and Laurie was smart enough to know how to use the deadbolt.
Some days, I thought she was the most fragile creature on the planet, and some days, I thought she was so strong. She baffled me, and I wanted to find out more.
"Inside, now," Sam said, shaking me out of my thoughts.
I sighed and followed him. I felt like I didn't have a choice right now. Besides, I hadn't coherently given them a piece of my mind before, and I wanted to do it now.
Both Shannon and Ellis were sitting in the conference room, and they looked furious with me. Sam at least had the decency to close the door before he started reaming me out.
"Mr. and Mrs. Whitman," he said. "I am so sorry for the way that —"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." I held up my hand. "I don't need you to apologize for me. I know perfectly well what I did. Devon is alive and he has committed crimes, and his parents either know that or they're in denial."
"Why," Ellis thundered, "would we do that? Why would we pay you so much to—"
"Because you were hoping that I would take the suspicion off him by somehow blaming Laurie," I said. "However, that isn't the way the evidence points. And I don't shift my evidence based on where my paycheck comes from."
"Laurie is a terrible person," Ellis said. "She ruined my son."
"You think Laurie is the one who did this to him? Because I think that this started far before Laurie."
"What are you saying?" Ellis demanded. "Are you saying that we ruined him? I brought Devon up to be a good, strong man, just like me."
"Yes, you did bring Devon up to be a man just like you," I said, and silence settled over the room.
"What exactly do you mean by that?" Ellis demanded.
I shrugged. "You can take that however you’d like," I said. "But that is the truth. And continuing to coddle Devon is only going to make it worse. He's guilty and he's going to strike again. You may not even know how or what he is capable of."
"I know my son," Ellis said.
I wrinkled an eyebrow. "Do you?" I asked. "So, you knew that he would do this to Laurie?"
Another silence fell over the room and I pushed forward.
"Because if you know your son and knew what he was capable of, then you would be considered an accomplice in all of this. Is that true?"
"Blake," Sam said. "I don't think that—"
"No, he said it," I said, glaring at Ellis. "So, is that what you are admitting to?"
Ellis turned bright red with anger, and he didn't say another word. Shannon looked like she wanted to say something, but she kept silent. To be honest, I was starting to feel sorry for her. She was probably a victim in all of this, controlled by Ellis just like Laurie had been controlled by Devon.
Maybe I should be focused on getting Shannon some help. Maybe I should be focused on trying to rescue her a
nd Laurie and bring down Devon all at once.
Lola used to say that I tried to do too much, and I knew that was true. I was always trying to save everyone at once, and I often did a half-assed job at it rather than efficiently and effectively saving one person.
If she were here now, who would she want me to save? What would she want me to do? Would she want me to just bring down Devon? Would she want me to save Laurie?
"I think that's enough for one day," Sam said after another long silence.
"I think that's enough too," Ellis said as he got up and glared at me. "That's enough of everything. Everything."
He could have meant a million things by that, but he didn't say them. I wondered if my paychecks would stop coming.
I didn't really care, though. I couldn't take any more money from an asshole like that.
Once they were gone, Sam turned to me.
"Good job."
"Sorry, when did we start getting bought rather than delivering justice?" I asked.
"Blake, you are no longer an officer," he said. "You don't deliver justice."
"I'm so aware of that, it's hilarious." My voice was dripping with sarcasm. "What I'm not aware of is that I should be adjusting my evidence, apparently, based on who signs my paychecks."
"No, of course not," he said. "But it doesn't mean that you treat people with a lack of respect."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" I answered. "From the sounds of things, those people are criminals as much as their son is. For all we know, they helped."
"Do you have evidence to back that up?" Sam asked.
"Not yet," I said. "But I probably will soon."
"Well, when you have that evidence, get back to me," Sam said. "Until then, you will treat people with respect."
"Why?" I glared at him. "I've never treated criminals with respect, and neither have you."
"That's not true," Anna put in.
I laughed in her face. "Is that what you think?" I asked. "You have rose-colored glasses on or something? You think your partner is a saint?"
Anna sputtered and I grinned.
"Because when Lola was away, Sam and I used to take the streets by storm. And if there was an asshole who needed to be hauled in, you bet he was being hauled in in the worst way possible. Scum like this, Anna, they don't deserve respect."
"That's not the way we do things," Sam said. "Now."
I realized what he was telling me, and I wanted to punch a wall. Anna had changed him. Anna was dictating their career, and he wasn't the Sam I used to work with. He was changing, and that was all right, but maybe this place wasn't for me.
Maybe I should leave for good. Maybe I shouldn't accept any more assignments from the police. I mean, it was only full of bad memories anyway, and it did a number on my head. I was certain that I was drinking much more than I usually did, especially since I had started to recover.
“Okay, great," I said. "Can I go now?"
"Is that it?" Sam said. "If you walk out of here, you may be done on this case."
"Really?" I asked. "So if I stay, the police are going to pay my salary?"
"That's not what I said," Sam said.
I chuckled. "I know," I said. "But your eyes are screaming that you want me to go. And it's not like I'm going to get more work off the Whitmans."
"We can see what—"
"No, forget it," I said as I grabbed my coat. "It's fine, Sam."
"So, what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to find Devon," I said. "I don't care if I'm being paid or not. There's a killer out there, and I need to find him."
"But—" he started.
"I have savings, don't worry, Sam," I said with a chuckle. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself."
I knew he wanted to say more, but there really wasn't more to say. He was stuck with the rules. But rules didn't matter to me. I didn't have to play by them. I could do whatever I wanted, and it would be fine. There was no boss to crack down on me. There was no officer to throw the book at me.
I was free.
And I needed to find Devon. I needed to get back to Laurie.
"Blake," Anna called after me, and I spun around. "Good luck."
I hadn't expected her to say that. My eyes shifted to Sam, and he was looking at her in surprise.
Maybe he didn't know everything about her.
"Thanks," I said. "You too."
With that, I headed to the elevator. My mind was already whirling with thoughts of where Devon could be. Was he going after Laurie again? Was he going after some other young girl?
When I got to the lobby, I happened to look up at the news.
To my shock, Laurie's face was on the television. She was running down the hall after Devon.
Mandy was being interviewed as well. It looked like they had decided to come forward and tell their story.
I had missed all of this while I was arguing with Sam? That proved that it was a waste of time. I needed to get back out there, and quickly.
I decided not to tell her what had happened to me. She didn't need to know that I was off the case. She didn't need to know that I had been taking money from her in-laws. What she needed to know was that I would keep her safe.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Laurie
Obviously, I wasn't a detective, and obviously, I couldn't sort out what Blake and the rest of the police force had access to. There were a lot of things that I couldn't research, but what I could do was take to my support forums and ask them where their abusive asshole spouses would run to.
Even if it wasn't about finding out where Devon was, I found myself feeling stronger just talking to them.
There were so many stories out there that were surprisingly like mine. The difference was, a lot of them didn't have the police support that I did, which I found surprising. The police, especially for the men, tended to ignore the cases and just put a restraining order in. That was it.
Of course, if someone was killed, they tended to put a little more work into it. But there were so many women who were on the verge of being killed who couldn't escape.
That broke my heart. Why did we have to die for someone to pay attention to us? Why did we have to have our hearts stop for someone to understand that we were broken?
One thing that I was looking forward to was a visit from the Graces today. I had told them not to come, that they might be followed, but they insisted on seeing me. Frankly, despite my protests, I was so happy that they were coming. I needed some friendly faces, especially since Blake was out on the case and trying to follow up on every lead he could.
When a knock came on the door, I felt my heart leap into my throat. I remembered when Devon knocked on my door and then kicked it in. Thankfully, the hotel had fixed it and I'd deadbolted it. I stayed on the bed, and then I heard Mario's friendly voice.
"It's us," he called out, and I took a deep breath.
"Coming," I said and then went to check the peephole. Sure enough, it was Mario and Belinda.
I moved the deadbolt on the door and then unlocked it and pulled it open.
"Hello, Hello." Belinda gave me a one-armed hug. She was carrying some sort of dish that smelled delicious, and I saw that Mario had a bag of disposable cutlery. "I thought we'd have a picnic."
"That's perfect," I said. "I'm so excited. I missed you guys so much."
"We've missed you too," Belinda said as Mario put down the bags. They both gave me a proper hug then and I didn't want to let go. "How are you?"
"I'm all right today," I said. "Of course, you've heard the latest developments."
"We have," Belinda said with a deep sigh. "I cannot believe this."
"I can," Mario said, and we both turned to him. "Sorry, It's just . . . I've met men like that. And I've seen the victims, of course. It's heartbreaking, but it does exist."
"I know," I said. "And I cannot believe that I've been so stupid."
"You haven't been stupid," Belinda said. "You've been strong. You can't possibly be ex
pected to think about every possibility and navigate every situation."
"Yeah, but . . . I should have realized that Devon would never let himself get killed. Not in a fire, of all things."
"I wish he had," Belinda said. "I wish someone really had taken him out, for your sake."
"I know," I said, and my lip started to tremble. I hadn't realized that I was actually so mixed on the issue until she said that. "I know. I just . . ."
"Oh, sweetie, it's going to be complicated," she said. "You don't have to explain it to me."
"What you need to do is eat," Mario said, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't want to be judgmental, but it seems you've lost some weight."
"Oh," I answered. "Yes, I probably have. Things have just been so difficult. I chased him, though. I wasn't going to let him get away."
"And we are so proud of you," Belinda said. "I have to admit, when I saw the news footage, I practically cheered."
"How did that footage get on the news, exactly?" Mario asked.
I sighed. "Well, that's the thing," I said. "The hotel sold it to them."
"Isn't that illegal?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Nope," I replied. "It's a privately owned space, and there's some fine print about being recorded when you book a room."
"I know, but . . ." He shook his head. "That's just tricking people."
"I asked them to release the footage to me," I said, "so I could go to the police. But they released it to the news. I guess they thought it was the same thing."
"That is horrible," Belinda said. "I'm so sorry."
She uncovered the dish, and the smell of Haitian cooking filled my hotel room. It was still steaming hot and my taste buds watered.
"Oh, I have missed your cooking," I said. "So much."
"Well, let me serve you the first bit," she said with a smile as she got a paper plate out.
It seemed like all was right with the world for a few minutes. I was sitting on the hotel bed, and my dearest friends were around me. There was hot food and they were so warm and kind.
"Do you think we would have been friends if we met under a different circumstance?" I asked.