He ends his call just as the sirens signal the arrival of the emergency services.
Before he leaves, I have to know what kind of threat he poses. “Why do you not arrest me?”
“I’m interested in justice and keeping the streets safe. How that’s done? I’m not really interested in the details. I didn’t become a cop because I believe in the badge. I became a cop because it’s the way I can keep those safe who need to be safe, and I get the badge to cover it.”
We speak the same language.
“You have a Daisy then?”
He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want a Daisy. No offense. I’m not into relationships and permanent entanglements.”
“Then what are you fighting for?”
He shrugs. “What do we all fight for? To make the world a safe place for those we love.”
“So you have a Daisy but she doesn’t love you back?”
At this he scowls and turns away, stomping into the living room. No answer is voiced but none needs to be. His actions speak more loudly than his words.
Chapter 15
Daisy
Trembling, I try to stay out of the way of Nick and the cop as they get to work. I don’t like the way this man moves so casually, helping Nick dispose of a body.
He’s got something on us. He could stop our happiness.
My mind’s racing with wild thoughts. I want nothing more than for Nick to stop what he’s doing and come hold me. I want him to come and comfort me, to tell me it’s all right, that the man holding me down would never have raped me. That my throbbing cheek won’t turn into a bruise where he struck me. That the idea of him showing up five minutes later was impossible.
Nick would have been there. I know he would have. But I still want him to hold me.
Unfortunately, he’s cleaning things up, and so I have to be brave. I move to Christine and try to rouse her. When Saul found us, he refused to listen to Christine’s excuses, her entreaties as to why she was with me. Saul immediately decked her in the face, knocking her out. Part of me hopes he didn’t kill her, and a small, ugly part of me hopes that he did. Because if Christine is not dead, how do we explain that Nick killed Saul for her own good? It’s clear to me that she still loves that horrible man, even though he attacked her and then me.
There’s a throw pillow next to her head, and I stare at it long and hard. It would be so easy to push it over her face, to hold it there until she stopped breathing. She’d never gain consciousness. Never be able to point a finger at Nick and accuse him. We’d be safe.
I could kill her, like I killed Sergei.
The thought is ugly, and it leaves an awful taste in my mouth. I push the pillow away, as if doing so can make the thoughts leave my head. I would gladly kill for Nick again, but Sergei was evil. Christine is just a victim.
I tap her cheek to wake her, making my decision.
She rouses, and I help her sit up. “Are you all right?”
“Saul,” she moans, her eyes fluttering open. “Where’s Saul?”
I look around, but the men are no longer in the room. They’re “disposing” of the evidence before the police get here. “He ran,” I tell her. “He knocked you out and then attacked me.” I touch my throbbing cheek, and her gaze goes there. I want her to see what her boyfriend did to me. I want her to realize he’s dangerous to everyone.
“He hit you?” Her voice is a tiny whisper.
I nod, my own eyes tearing up. “He tried to rape me. But Nick . . . he stopped him. They screamed at each other, and then Saul . . . he ran.” The lie sounds awful in my mouth, but I don’t know what else to say. That Nick broke his neck and is even now disposing of the body with a dirty cop?
It would put everyone in danger. And I won’t lose Nick because of Christine.
To my surprise, though, Christine bursts into noisier tears. “He said if I ever tried to leave him, he’d disappear. That I’d never see him again.”
My mouth goes dry. Could we be so lucky? “He—he said something like that when he left,” I lie. “He was shouting. Really mad.”
But she just buries her face into my shoulder and cries. “I’ve lost him.”
And I pat her shoulder and try to soothe her, even though I’m brimming with relief.
We have an easy out. If Christine, who professes to love her boyfriend, readily accepts that he will just disappear from her life, we can use this.
I’m willing to sell this lie to whoever will buy it.
***
Hours later, McFadden—the dirty cop—drives Christine home. We have all given our statements, been examined by paramedics, and the cops are now on the lookout for a man who matches Saul’s description. They won’t find him, of course. Even Christine seems to think he won’t be found if he doesn’t want to be found.