I could pull the book in my bag out, the one with the letter opener, and feel good about that bookmark, a.k.a. weapon, but I leave well enough alone. I say nothing. I simply step around him and force myself to walk evenly toward the stairs. Once I’m around the corner, I hurry up the steps, unlock my door, and shut myself inside my apartment. I drop my purse, grab the bookmark, a.k.a. letter opener, a.k.a. weapon right about now, and search my apartment.
When I’m done, I’m aware that there is no music coming from downstairs.
I don’t know why Ben is there, but it’s not to clean.
I grab my MacBook and open the lid, pulling up my dating profile. I search for Adam.
His profile is missing, completely vanished.
Chapter Fifty-Six
“Be a good girl and your communication with Kevin will disappear forever, all of it.” He pauses for effect and then adds, “Unless, of course, you cross me.”
I spent most of the night replaying Adam’s words to me, pacing and pacing some more, fingers dragging through my hair, over my hips, wrapped around my body. Randomly I pick up my phone to dial Jess or Jack and then throw the damn thing down. Anyone I tell is a liability. That’s what Adam said, and I believe him. With my resources at zero, I walk up and down the stairs to recheck the locks. At several points I curse myself for not learning to shoot a gun as Jack suggested or at least installing a security system. That changes tomorrow. I’m going to ask him to borrow that extra gun he owns. And I’m going to take firearm lessons.
But then what?
I stare at my phone on the bed, which is the last spot it landed, and I wonder what happens if I call Adam. Will his line be disconnected? What if it’s not? What if it is? What does any of this tell me? Could this be one big joke Kevin pulled on me? No. Of course not. Or—could it? No. No. No. I saw Kevin die. Adam killed him. And how can he make my communication with Kevin disappear? Or reappear? I’m confused. I’m devastated. I’m alone. Kevin is dead. I can’t go to the police. I can’t call family or friends.Whatcan I do? Ultimately, I do all Icando, at least for now. I open a bottle of wine and start drinking. This is followedby more pacing and more drinking. Me in the shower, sitting in the corner, naked, crying,alone.
At some point I throw up. At another point I fall onto the bed, wrapped in a towel, hair wet, and I must black out. This assumption comes to me only when the sound of the buzzer on my front door rings intrusively, over and over and over. I jolt up, queasy and in a panic. The police are here. It’s all over for me. And it should be, right? I didn’t even go to the police when I saw Kevin murdered. I wrap myself in a robe and my cellphone rings. I grab it from the nightstand to find my mother calling. Not now. No. I cannot deal with her right now. I toss my phone on the bed and rush down the stairs to hit the panel buzzer. “Who is it?”
“Your mother. How long are you going to leave me standing out here?”
My forehead drops to the door panel.No.That’s all my mind can manage. Justno. But there is no such answer with my mother. I hit the button again. “Come up.” I unlock the door and roll to lean on the wall.
As expected, she lets herself into the loft and steps in front of me. She’s in jeans and a soft red sweater, as if Adam himself dictated her wardrobe, just for a good laugh. And of course, her dark hair is silky, her makeup perfect, her lips glossy. Whoever this man is in her life who is not my father—he’s doing right by her. Or maybe it’s my father having the affair, and she’s trying to win him back. It’s all a cluttered mess in my mind right now.
“You look like shit,” she announces, glancing at her watch. “Did you forget lunch?”
I blink the memory into my mind. Lunch. I promised to go home for lunch. I did promise. I really did do that. Why now, though? Why today?
“Obviously that’s a yes,” she says, finishing the statement with a weary sigh. “Your father’s excited you’re coming. He’s making a feast.”
In other words, there’s no backing out of this. I won’t let my father down. “Why are you here?” I ask instead. “I’ll be there soon on my own.”
“I thought I’d give you a ride. That way we can game-plan on what we plan to say to your father. I’ll put on coffee. You go shower.”
The buzzer on the door goes off again, and panic jackknifes through me. Who is here?Whatis here? A box with Kevin’s severed head inside? Would Adam do that? I think he might. Or I’m having a psychotic break and none of this is real.
My mother’s brow dips. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” I say. “Nothing is wrong.”
I rotate to face the wall and hit the buzzer. “Yes?”
“It’s me,” I hear. “Jack.”
Not a severed head, at least, but oh my God, why is he here? It’s not safe to be near me right now. Still, I breathe out, “Come up.”
I rotate again to face my mother. “Send Jack upstairs when he gets here.”
Her lips purse. “Is that appropriate?”
“Mom, I’m not going to get naked with Jack, at least not with you here in the loft.”
“Seriously, Mia?”
“Mom,” I chide. “We’re just friends. Nothing more.”
