It was strange, really strange, that the shooting hadn’t gotten more attention, but these past days had all been strange, so I shouldn’t have been surprised by this one other thing.
“Milan…” Tiffany said, her wavering voice breaking the spell of my thoughts.
I glanced up, locked eyes with her, and in her gaze, I could see how much she cared for me. Seeing her reminded me I had friends, a life, and the tears that shimmered at the corners of her eyes made me realize how relieved I was I had survived last night. The day before had been almost like a dream, something that felt like it had happened to someone else. Looking at Tiffany now brought home how real it had been.
“There was a shooting,” I said flatly.
“Here?” she said, looking around the room.
“No, at the wedding.”
“What! The one I made you cover? Are you okay?” Tiffany shrieked, her pretty brown eyes bugged out of her face.
I nodded, and her expression fell, and she looked stark, the blood draining from her face, leaving her looking shaken.
Seeing her crestfallen face, the way her knees wobbled, I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “It’s not your fault, Tiff. And I’m fine.”
She looked at me skeptically, shock and surprise warring with disbelief on her face. “What happened? Was anyone hurt?” she asked.
“I-I’m not sure,” I finally said, embarrassed I didn’t have a better answer.
“What did the police say?” she asked, dropping her brows.
I shrugged. “I haven’t talked to the police.”
“What?” she said. “Why not?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“They didn’t take a statement?”
“I haven’t actually seen them. Haven’t seen anyone,” I said. I left it at that, unwilling to add more. I couldn’t explain what I’d been doing for those long hours, couldn’t explain Priest, so silence was the only alternative, unsatisfying as it felt and as surprised as Tiffany looked.
“What the hell, Milan? What do you mean you haven’t seen anyone?” she said.
“I don’t know,” I said for lack of anything else to say.
“Did you leave or something?” she said, her shock becoming suspicion.
“Yeah,” I finally said, though I still didn’t expand.
“Milan…” Tiffany trailed off again, but she didn’t sound worried anymore. Instead, she was perplexed and teetering on pissed.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” I said.
“Try,” Tiffany said, looking at me as if she dared me to not speak.
I huffed. “I didn’t plan to go, but someone got into my car with me, so I drove him,” I said.
She frowned. “What the fuck? You got carjacked?”
“No. Yes. Sort of,” I finally settled on. The word didn’t fit, had a violence, a viciousness that hadn’t at all been my experience with Priest. But explaining that to Tiffany was out of the question, especially since I didn’t understand it myself.
“Oh my God! Milan, no one gets ‘sort of’ carjacked. Who was it? Did he hurt you?”
“No!” I snapped, feeling the need to defend Priest. “It wasn’t like that,” I said.
“Tell me how it was, then. What the hell happened?” she said, her expression unyielding.
“Tiffany, slow down,” I said. It was my attempt to forestall her onslaught, an attempt that was an utter failure.
“I can’t slow down,” she said without missing a beat. “My best friend just told me she got carjacked. She seems really fucking mellow about it, and she hasn’t talked to the police.” Tiffany had a full head of steam now, and she glared at me like aliens had just landed in our living room.
“He told me not to worry,” I said, my voice going quiet as I finished, the utter silliness of what I was saying becoming more apparent as Tiffany’s eyes got wider.
“And you believed him?” she exclaimed.
“Yes,” I said, my voice stronger now.
“Milan.” Tiffany shook her head, her eyes bugging out again with her disbelief.
“What?” I said shrugging, feeling defensive and stupid and also knowing Tiffany was right but not being able to reconcile that knowledge with what I was feeling, with how much I believed him.
“You have to go to the police,” she said.
“I don’t know anything,” I said.
“You let them decide that.”
“Tiffany—”
“Tiffany nothing. Get up. We’re going to the police station,” she said.
I wanted to argue, but I didn’t have it in me, didn’t have the strength, so instead I took Tiffany’s offered hand and stood on my feet. I was dressed and ready to go in under fifteen minutes and Tiffany was beside me every step of the way. In under a half hour, we were walking into the police station.