Begin to Begin

by Brown,A. S.

  "I'm so sorry, Marin. So fucking sorry."

  "Please, don't be sorry. Not you. You don't have to be." I focused back on the road as thoughts start streaming through my head at the speed of light.

  There is a sick feeling in my gut that I do need to be sorry, though. More than sorry. It can’t be.

  Can it?

  Pushing all thoughts aside of that night, I try to focus on the right now. Putting away Marin’s attacker.

  We pull into the police station visitors’ parking lot. Which is weird to me because who really "visits" the freaking police station?

  I don't have a chance to open Marin's door because she flings it open and jumps out of the seat, clearly on a mission. I quickly jump out of the Bronco and run after her. "Marin! Wait!" She slows down at the sound of my voice. Not much, but enough for me to catch up.

  "I'm sorry. I just want to get this over with. Do you think you will know if it's him?"

  "I have no doubt that if they got him, I will know if it's him. I will never forget his face." Although the last time I saw his face it was beat up due to my fists pounding it. Those cold dark eyes and sunken cheeks will always haunt me. I'm positive that if I wouldn't have been there he wouldn't have stopped at rape. He would have most likely killed her.

  We march up the steps side by side and walk through the double doors into the station.

  "Miss Marin! How are you?"

  "I've been OK, Frank. Why in the world are you here this late tonight?" The man laughs.

  "Oh, I switched shifts with Tony for the week. His wife had knee surgery and he wanted to be home in the evenings with her."

  "Well, that was nice of you. We got a call from Detective Merritt." Frank finally notices me standing behind Marin and I give him a quick wave.

  "Yes, ma’am, You know where to find him." He gestures behind him to what I'm guessing is the detective’s office.

  I follow Marin to the office. She knocks, and once we hear a muffled, "Come in", she opens the door.

  "Marin. Dalton. Thanks for coming in." He looks from her to me and then from me to her. Slightly confused at the sight of us together.

  "Thank you for calling us right away, Detective Merritt. I will be glad to put this incident behind me. Though I understand I will still have to deal with a trial," Marin responds. I hate that she will have to go through a trial and face this piece of shit but I'm glad that they have someone in custody. I hope it's the right guy.

  "Well, we called you both in because Dalton actually saw the perpetrator and maybe if you see him you will remember something. Anything can help." He stands up and motions for us to follow him as he continues talking. “We got a call tonight about another attack but this time in progress. Thank god there was an officer right around the corner from the location where it happened. We were able to arrest him without too much incident.” Marin follows behind Detective Merritt quietly, listening to everything he’s telling us.

  But I’m barely hearing his words. I’m focused on where he’s taking us. I know exactly where we are going—I’ve been there before.

  Only on the other side of the glass.

  We walk into the room and there are two other detectives waiting for us. They introduce themselves as Detectives Winston and Vega and I breathe a short sigh of relief that I'm not familiar with either of them. But that doesn't mean that they aren't familiar with me. I have learned that word travels fast in this place. The detectives explain to Marin how this works. They press the little button on the wall and it lets the officer in the holding room know to let the suspects into the room. When they all come in they will walk in a single file line and then all turn at the same time toward the mirror. She can then ask questions or ask to have them step forward or to the side.

  Detective Merritt explains that Marin didn't see the perp but that I would most like be the one identifying them and then explains what happened.

  He then turns to Marin and asks, "Are you ready, honey?"

  She answers simply with, "Yes". He then turns and asks if I'm ready.

  "I've never been more ready. Let’s get this asshole behind bars where he belongs." I reach down and give Marin's hand an encouraging squeeze.

  Detective Vega walks up to the speaker that is on the wall beside the window and tells the person on the other end to send them in. Only about thirty seconds pass before the door opens and the they start filing in as the detective said they would.

  There are a total of five men. They all look like criminals but that doesn't mean they are. Looks can be deceiving. Personally I don't think I look like a criminal but since I've been on the other side of that glass, I guess I am one.

  Marin takes her time looking them all over.

  Immediately I know which one it is. I know it’s him.

  Number four.

  He stares at the glass like he knows she's on the other side and he will devour her if he can get to her. I'll never let him touch her. Even if she finds out my past, I will still protect her with everything I have in me. Even if I’m behind bars.

  "I just … don't know." She tells the detective. Her eyebrows draw together in confusion. "I never saw his face, not clearly anyway. Only his hands." She turns to the detective. "I know it's a long shot but can I see their hands up close?"

  He nods and talks into the speaker this time pressing a different button telling them that one by one, starting with number one he wants them to step forward and hold up their hands, palms toward the glass and then after two seconds turn them around so their palms face them. I step closer to her and pull her into my side. She molds into me effortlessly. I can feel her anxiety rolling off of her and I try to consume it by holding her close.

  They each step forward and show their hands. This is working and one and two she immediately dismisses. Number one had the smallest hands I have ever seen and number two was missing a finger. Number three she isn't as sure about at first but when he turns his hands around he has a skull tattoo on one so she dismisses him.

  Number four steps forward.

  He smiles smugly, and I want nothing more than to snap his fucking neck in two.

  She knows it's him. I hear her deep intake of breath. "I'm almost positive that's him," she says. Detective Merritt finally turns to me.

  "Dalton?" he questions. He's looking for my verification.

  "Yeah, that's definitely him. I would know those eyes anywhere." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, Marin turns into me and buries her face into my chest. Her sobs wrack her body and I put my arms around her to comfort her. "Shhh, he’s not going anywhere. He will never lay a finger on you or anyone else again." Her tears drench my chest as I continue to comfort her the best that I know how.

  As I hold her I look over at the detectives. "Are we done here? I'd really like to take her home."

  "Yeah, there are a few papers I need her to sign off on but other than that, there isn’t much I need from the two of you. He’s not going anywhere and we will have him booked tonight. I nod and turn my attention back to the beautiful girl falling apart in my arms.

  Leaning down, I whisper in her ear, "Let's get you home, sweet girl." I keep her wrapped up in my arms as we walk out but I stop when we get back out to the lobby. "Wait right here for me. I forgot to tell the detectives something but I'll only be a minute, OK?"

  Though she looks at me confused, she doesn't ask any questions. I make my way back to the room we were just in where I find the detectives still in there. "Excuse me, Detective Merritt, can I talk to you for one minute?"

  "Sure." He turns to the other detectives. "I think you guys have this one under control. If you need anything else, just let me know."

  After they leave, he motions for me to sit but I decline. "I only have a minute because Marin is waiting."

  He sits down and looks me over suspiciously. “Let me ask you something, Dalton.”

  “OK.”

  “Has she told you about her fiancé?” He’s feeling overprotective but not in a possessive way. I
n a paternal way. I see in his eyes that he cares for her.

  “Yeah, she told me.”

  “So are you two seeing each other now?”

  "No, we are just friends. But, I'm not going to lie. I like her. I like her a lot. Over the past couple weeks she has stolen my heart. She’s the most amazing person I ever met.” I tell him more than I’ve ever told anyone. I’m usually not so open, especially with people I don’t know. “She's actually the reason I wanted to talk to you."

  "Well OK. But Marin is an adult and can make her own decisions. But, what did you need to talk about?" he asks with confusion now in his eyes.

  "I actually wanted to talk to you about her fiancé’s case. I wanted to talk to you about the murder of Benji Stevens."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marin

  I wait for Dalton in the lobby of the police station watching the hustle and bustle around me. I hear a door open to my left. When I glance over, an officer is bringing the man that attacked me out of the room he was in. Instinctively, I take a step back and he sees me out of the corner of his eye and turns his head.

  His eyes are empty. They hold nothing good in them. In this moment, I thank god again for Dalton. If he wouldn't have been there to save me I know something worse than bad would have happened. The man's mouth quirks up in a callous smile and he looks like he's going to say something but he doesn't get a chance because Dalton walks out behind him.

  If we weren't in a police station, there is no doubt that Dalton would hurt him. The man is clearly surprised when he sees Dalton. He must have thought I was the only one that identified him. Little does he know I don't think that my identification would hold up in court. The officer shuffles him away as quickly as possible but Dalton doesn't take his eyes off of him until he is out of view and when he turns his eyes to me, they change. The venom they hold fades to affection and worry. He rushes to my side and without hesitation wraps me in his arms.

  There isn't anything romantic about the embrace. It's a friend comforting another friend. We stay like this for several moments, his tall frame pulling me into him.

  I don't want to break away from him, but he slowly pulls back and looks down at me.

  "It's over. He's not getting out for a long time. You weren't his first victim," he says sadly. I don't need to ask any questions. I know it's bad so I nod.

  "Take me home."

  I’m completely exhausted now. This night didn’t quite go as I hoped. I mean, I’m glad the guy was arrested and I’m glad he can’t hurt anyone anymore but I wanted this to be a nice relaxing night to laugh with a friend.

  "OK," he answers as he grabs my hand.

  We walk out of the station hand in hand and he helps me into his Bronco before walking around to his side. He pauses before he gets in and peers at me through the window. There is so much sadness in his eyes now and he gazes at me as if this may be the last time he looks at me.

  Although he has been nothing less than kind to me, I can tell that he has such a tortured soul. I would give anything to find out why and to help rid him of all his sadness. I smile shyly at him, breaking the trance that he seems to be in and he smiles back. It's odd to smile during such a terrifying time but he makes me want to smile. If only to make him smile in return.

  Our ride home is wrapped in silence. I don't take my eyes off of him the entire ride. He's focused on the road yet it's clear his thoughts are elsewhere. I'm not even sure he knows I'm watching him. He pulls into my driveway, parks, and turns off the Bronco. I open my door and hop out but wait for him to walk around to my side.

  After a few seconds of him still not coming to me, I casually glance behind me and notice him behind the vehicle, his head resting on the rear window and his hands clasped above his head.

  I drop my bag to the ground and run around to the back of the Bronco in no time.

  "Dalton?" I lightly press one of my hands to his back and grab his arm with my other hand, anchoring me to him. He slowly lifts his head and our eyes meet—his are so full of hopelessness. I don't know what happened back there but ever since he was alone with Detective Merritt, his demeanor has changed. He went from being angry, but comforting to being plain sad and defeated.

  "Please tell me what's wrong?" I whisper.

  Turning to face me he lifts my chin up and gazes at me as if he's memorizing every feature on my face. "I'm just so damned sorry," he whispers.

  I'm not sure what he's talking about so I shake my head, and reaching up, place my hand behind his head and thread my fingers through his thick dark hair.

  Slowly, I bring his face down to mine—we are a mere breath apart. "Don't be sorry. You saved me." His eyes close and he breathes out a slight sigh, and in that moment, his lips touch mine. My eyes flutter closed as he moves his lips against mine.

  I didn’t plan on kissing him. I didn’t want to kiss him. But I allow it to happen.

  It feels so wrong but at the same time perfectly right. He pulls back and looks into my eyes, giving me a chance to catch my breath, to stop him, but I don't. I do the opposite. I pull his lips back to mine and deepen our kiss.

  He moans, and I gasp as our tongues meet for the first time. We are frantic, searching for something that's been long lost in both of us. Dalton reaches around and clutches onto the back of my dress. Just as he starts to move his hands lower, I break the kiss.

  "Wait," I pant out as our foreheads meet. I place my hand back on his cheek as I struggle to catch my breath. I don't think I've ever been kissed like that.

  And it scares the living hell out of me.

  "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

  "Don't be," I mumble right back to him. "I'm just not ready for too much," I say as I start to pull away, straightening my sweater. "I really don't know what I'm ready for, to be honest. I didn't think I would ever even kiss another man," I say as I softly touch my fingers to my lips. Shaking my head, I try to rid any overthinking out of my brain.

  "I guess … I guess I should head inside. But thank you, for tonight. For everything. Without you …" He stops me short of finishing my sentence.

  "No need to thank me, Marin. I don't deserve it. But I would do it again. I would do it all a thousand times over." He turns and walks around to the driver’s side and jumps in, starts up the Bronco and hurriedly pulls out of the driveway. It all happens so fast I am left in a daze standing in my driveway. Did he regret kissing me? I’m not sure if I’m ready for all the emotion I felt behind that kiss, but I don’t regret it.

  He gave me no time to ask him what he meant. As I make my way inside my house, the house Benji and I picked out together, the one we were to grow old together in and now here I am alone. I shut the door and fall back against it. Slowly sliding down the door, tears flow freely down my cheeks. The silent tears turn into body-wracking sobs.

  How is it possible that my heart feels like it's breaking and healing all at the same time?

  ******

  Last night was one of the most confusing, terrifying, exhilarating nights of my life. How is it possible to fit those three things all in one day?

  Stretching I look around my room. The sun is streaming beams across my bedroom. Benji had this window custom made for the house and surprised me with it. There is a seat in the window so I can curl up and read my favorite book while I watch him working in the yard, which was his domain. He loved the backyard and the big oak tree where his ashes are now spread. The birds always flocked to that tree before he died but now that it's his final resting place, they seem to like it even more.

  I don't remember coming to my bed last night. But I do remember that kiss as I touch my fingers to my lips. My heart still holds that empty space for Benji but now there is a warm spot right in the middle where Dalton has ignited a flame.

  I am definitely starting to feel more than a friendly relationship brewing between us but I don't think I can deny the darkness I saw in his eyes last night. I need to figure out what it is before I can agree to start any type of relationship with him.
I feel like there is something he’s not telling me. When we first met, I knew there was something, but last night after he briefly met with Detective Merritt, it was something more.

  wingingS my legs over the side of my bed, ready to head into the bathroom and brush my teeth, and there is a knock on my door. It can only be one person this early in the morning.

  Amelia.

  I sigh and shuffle my sleepy body to the door, not bothering with a robe. As I get closer, I hear her yell, "Open up, Marin. I know that you are home." She’s going to wake the neighbors if she doesn’t pipe down.

  Flinging the door open, she stands there looking pissed off with her hands on her hips.

  "What the actual fuck, Marin? I've been calling you since last night and you haven't responded. If you wouldn't have answered this door I would have been making the police station my next stop!"

  "Calm down. I didn't check my phone all night, I was kind of busy." I turn and head for the kitchen, needing coffee to wake me up. I don't even know what time I actually went to bed last night.

  "Busy doing what? I know you left the store early, but that's all Cole would tell me. What's going on, Marin?" She stands glaring at me trying to look angry but I see the concern hidden behind her hard exterior.

  I pop my K-cup into my coffee maker and brew my coffee, refusing to answer her until I have a sip of coffee in my system.

  "Stop ignoring me dammit!" she yells, stomping her feet like a child. I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me.

  "Chill, I'm not ignoring you. Just let me get my coffee and I will explain everything."

  After my coffee is in my cup, I get hers ready; I know she’ll want it. Once we both have our cups in hand, I motion to the back door. "Come outside with me. I need to be with Benji this morning."

  "OK, talk. Where the hell were you last night?" Some of the fire has left her tone since she has gotten some coffee in her.