YOURS TRULY

by Bella Grant

  “Randi! What the hell happened?” I ran to her and grabbed her arms, making sure she wasn’t seriously injured.

  “That bastard put a camera in my bedroom! I found it, and he broke down my door with an ax! I had to escape out the window!” Randi yelled, her words breathless as she watched the front door of her apartment, which I realized was hanging on the hinges, shredded by the ax.

  Just as the man appeared in the doorway like Jack Nicholson in The Shining, two cop cars roared into the parking lot, sirens blaring. Randi and I pointed simultaneously to the door, where the man stood holding the ax. Both officers flung themselves out of their cars, guns drawn. I grabbed Randi and jerked her to my car, pushing her down behind it.

  “Freeze! Drop the weapon!”

  Jacobson dropped the ax which, upon closer inspection, had blood on it. The officers ran to him and shoved him to the ground. They cuffed him, lifted him, and walked him to the closest car.

  “I left you a present, Randi!” he called, winking at her before the officer shoved him into the back seat.

  I felt her heaving a second before she jerked away and threw up behind my car. I held her hair back as the officers walked to us.

  “She okay?” the tall one asked.

  “I’m fine,” she grumbled as she sat up and wiped her mouth. She looked at me. “Do you have a jacket or something in your car?”

  “Here, take my shirt,” I told her as I took off my dress shirt. I wore an undershirt, and I could tell she was uncomfortable in the torn tank top.

  “I’ll ruin it. I’m bleeding,” she sniffled. She took a deep breath with her eyes closed as I wrapped it around her. When she opened her eyes, evidence of tears had vanished.

  “I don’t care, baby,” I whispered.

  “Ma’am, can you talk to us? We need to know what happened.”

  “Yes, but I want to go check on my cat. I think he killed him,” Randi murmured as she pushed past them.

  I grabbed her arm. “Babe, please, let one of the officers check. You don’t need that.”

  She stared at me, prepared to argue, when the short, round officer said, “Ma’am, I’ll go check while you give Officer Dalton your statement.”

  Randi nodded, but while she answered the questions, she stared at the door to her apartment. She told Officer Dalton what had happened, and I felt sicker and sicker as I listened. What if he had reached her before she got out the window? My stomach hurt by the time he’d finished.

  “Do I have to come to the station?” Randi asked, shivering when the other officer walked out of the apartment towards them.

  “We will need a formal statement, and we’ll need to get into his apartment to check for recordings.”

  “I can help with that,” a man announced. “I own this complex. One of my tenants called about the commotion.” He looked at Randi. “What happened?”

  Randi didn’t answer him. She stared at the officer who had returned from the apartment. “Well?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  When her strength left her, a wail escaped her lips. I wrapped her in my arms and let her sob. The officers watched a moment, expressionless, then walked away with the manager to get into the maintenance man’s apartment.

  “Snickers,” she cried, and my heart ached for hers.

  “Come on. Let’s put you in my car,” I murmured as I led her to the front seat. She sat and stared at the ground, lost.

  “I’ve had him since I moved in here,” she told me. “He was my baby, and I left him behind.”

  “Baby, if you’d tried to find him, that fucker would have killed you,” I reminded her logically, though she probably wasn’t in the mood for logic.

  She nodded, wiped her face, and stood. With her hand in mine, she said, “I need some clothes so I can go to the police station.”

  “Let me get them. Jeans and a t-shirt okay?” She nodded. “Will you be okay while I run and get them?” She nodded again. I jogged to Officer Dalton. “She needs clothes. Will you talk to her while I grab her some?”

  “Sure. But don’t touch anything,” he warned me.

  Inside, I saw the devastation the ax had wreaked on the door, and my insides churned. That could have been her body. The body of the cat had been covered by a towel, but blood had seeped through. My heart beat faster as I thanked God she wouldn’t have to see that. As quickly as I could, I grabbed her jeans and a t-shirt. I saw the dangling camera, and my anger rose like a volcano. I tamped it down, but who knew how long ago the man had placed the camera there or in how many apartments.

  Shaking my head, I walked through the apartment without glancing at the bloody mess. I saw her school bag and grabbed it, knowing she would hate to leave it in the unlockable apartment. When she saw me carrying it, she smiled and reached for it.

  “I’ll put it in my car. You’ll be staying with me tonight, and you’ll be emailing your professors that you won’t be in school tomorrow.”

  Randi opened her mouth for a moment, then snapped it closed. She knew I was right. She pulled her jeans on over her shorts and put the tee on over her tank. When she caught me watching, she grimaced.

  “I’m not wearing a bra or panties,” she informed me with a small smile.

  “I don’t think anyone will care.” I took her hand and kissed it.

  “Are you ready to go to the station?” Officer Dalton asked. “You can follow us in your car.”

  Randi nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Randi

  The son-of-a-bitch had cameras in five different apartments, all belonging to single women. The invasion of privacy was illegal, but the attempted murder of me would put him away for a long time. I asked the police what would happen to the videos he’d recorded and was assured they’d be locked in evidence after the trial.

  Eliot hired a crew to gather Snickers’s remains as well as clean the apartment so I could go back to it a few days later. He had a lovely urn made for Snickers’s ashes, and I had cried for a solid hour the day he gave it to me. He held my hand and let me shed my tears, for which I was grateful.

  When I called in to work on Thursday, Rita had immediately called me back. “What’s going on, chica?”

  “Rita, you will not believe what happened,” I gushed. I told her the whole story—without tears, surprisingly—only sniffling when I told her about Snickers.

  “That motherfucker! Poor Snickers,” Rita sympathized. “Where are you staying? You can live with me. I promise there are no cameras.”

  “I’m staying at Eliot’s right now, but I might take you up on that offer,” I told her. Eliot lifted an eyebrow as he handed me a glass of wine.

  “Okay, chica. Just let me know what you need,” Rita told me. “Love you, but I gotta get on stage.”

  “Love you too, friend,” I replied, a smile tugging on my lips.

  “What offer?” Eliot asked when I ended the call.

  “Eavesdropper,” I accused as I sipped my wine. “Good stuff.”

  “Only the best for you, my love,” he replied, clinking his glass gently against mine after sitting next to me on the couch. “What offer?”

  “Well, she said I could live with her,” I explained, looking away. I wanted to live with him, but I couldn’t invite myself to do that.

  “Hmmm,” Eliot hummed in reply. “Yeah, I guess you could do that. But you know what would be better?”

  Hope blossomed in my chest. “What?”

  “If you lived here with me,” he said as he ran a finger down my cheek.

  “You want me to live with you?” I asked, reassuring myself.

  “More than anything,” he replied, leaning over to kiss me. “And maybe, we can talk about a wedding… in the future.”

  His eyes were hopeful too, and I smiled and launched myself into his arms, nearly spilling his wine. I kissed him hard on the mouth, squealing as I did so.

  “After I graduate, okay?”

  “Perfect.”

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