Nine
Milan
I thought I might be sick with the energy that raced through me as Tiffany and I walked into the police station. It felt strange, being here, and before I could process the impulse, I couldn’t help but think of Priest, couldn’t help but want him here with me. He had made an impression, and his absence was weird, left me feeling strangely hollow.
Which was one hundred percent certifiably insane. But it had been that kind of day. I glanced over at Tiffany and then decided not to ask her how long it took for Stockholm syndrome to wear off. She was nearly radiating with her anger, and every time she looked at me, I halfway worried she might throttle me right here in full view of the police.
I was nearly overcome with the need to smile, but one glance at Tiffany told me that would be a mistake. So instead, I walked up to the security guard at the metal detector. The woman stationed there looked at me suspiciously, and if Tiffany had not been hovering behind me, I might have run.
“I…I, um… The shooting? At the church? I was there,” I said.
The security guard stared at me, the “and” clear in the tilt of her head. “You were there. Did you see something?” she finally said.
“I was with the caterer, but no, I didn’t see anything. Not really…but I thought I should, I don’t know, talk to someone,” I said.
She looked me up and down. “Wait here.” She marched away, watching me as she left. Yeah, this was giving me a great feeling, and I turned to Tiffany, sure my expression gave away my train of thought.
“What?” she said.
At least she wasn’t glaring at me. I wandered back to where she stood and leaned against the pillar in the lobby, waiting.
Twenty-five minutes later, we were still waiting, though someone had taken the security guard’s spot at the metal detector.
“So I guess the wheels of justice do turn slowly,” Tiffany said.
“Looks like it,” I replied.
I had half a mind to leave, but Tiffany was having none of it. Still, it was worth a shot. “Tiff—”
“Ma’am.” The security guard appeared, cutting me off just as I was preparing to convince Tiffany we should get out of here.
She brightened. “You’re not getting out of this, Milan.”
Apparently not, so I walked toward the metal detector, Tiffany close behind me. The guard lifted the black security strap and waved me in.
“Not you,” she snapped.
I stilled and then followed her gaze to Tiffany, who was following me.
“What? I need her,” I said, nearly panicking at the thought of her leaving.
“Sorry. You’ll have to come alone,” the guard said.
I turned to Tiffany, wanting to argue, but she cut me off. “I’ll wait out here,” she said.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Take the car and go home.”
Part of me, a big part, wanted her to stay, needed a friendly face, one that reminded me of who and what I’d been just hours ago. The other part of me needed to do this alone. I didn’t exactly understand the impulse, but I heeded it. This was going to be difficult, and I needed to do it.
“I can’t leave you here,” she said.
“No reason for both of us to be here,” I said, though in that moment I wanted nothing more than to go home and hang out with my best friend.
“Okay,” she finally said. “But I’ll leave the car.”
I shook my head. “No. I’ll figure out a way back,” I said.
Then I handed her the key, and after she’d taken it from my hand, she leaned down and hugged me.
“See you soon,” she said, smiling brightly, though I could see the uncertainty in her eyes.
“Ma’am,” the guard said, her impatience clear.
Irritated, I looked back at her, and then hugged Tiffany again.
“See you soon,” I whispered, and then, after a breath, I stepped under the rope.
Ten
Priest
I’d left Milan’s on foot and set off on the long walk from her place to mine.
It had been early, the city still quiet, sleeping, and as I’d walked, I watched it come to life. None of what I’d seen had really touched me, though. No, my every thought had been of her.
Why, I wasn’t able to say. Or rather wasn’t willing to say. Because what I felt for her, that I felt anything for her at all, was something I had no capacity to understand.
Her gentle beauty couldn’t be the explanation. Women far more beautiful than her often threw themselves at me, and they’d never swayed me, had rarely gotten my attention when I was in their presence and certainly never held it for more than a few seconds after they’d gone.