“Kobe?”
“I’m not sure when I’ll be done. Something big landed on my desk.”
“Big? A new case?”
“No.”
“Do you need to talk about it?”
“I…”Shouldn’t. Couldn’t.I didn’t know which direction I would take, and the more Dominique knew, the more complicit he became, so I shared a variation of the truth. “I have to file a report against Yates. Someone showed up this afternoon, and he acted inappropriately. It got physical. I was the only one to witness it, so… The girl made a statement, but I have to deal with the paperwork and make some phone calls.”
“A girl?”
I hesitated. Dominique knew I was on the hunt for the two girls from three years ago. Was I willing to lie? Had he not indirectly shown his support? He may not agree with my dark thoughts, but he didn’t seem ready to crucify me for them either.
Fuck it.
“One of the girls from before. She showed up. Her name is Jolie. It’s… Christ, Dom. The less you know, the better.”
Dominique was quiet for a long time, and I could imagine what he was thinking. Was being a parent and picturing entitled boys taking advantage of his daughter enough to justify my desire? Would he leave me in the end? We’d done well at talking around the subject. Would he want to know more?
He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t pry or demand I elaborate, and I loved him more for that, but I also loved myself less for not being the man he likely hoped I would be.
“Come by when you’re done?” His voice was small. Quiet.
“I might head home tonight.”I might need space to come to terms with things, I didn’t say. “I have a headache. I doubt I’llget out of here before eight. Yates took off. I have to… figure stuff out.”
“Okay. Call me later?”
“I will.” I was about to say goodbye but stalled. “Hey, Dom?”
“Yeah.”
“I love you.”
“Criss que j’t’aime.” He paused and added, “No matter what you decide to do.”
With a sigh of relief, I closed my eyes. “Talk later.”
I wanted to collapse after getting off the phone. Dominique knew, and for whatever reason, he supported my decision.
I stared at the face of a nineteen-year-old boy whose sorrow and grief and love had driven him on a quest for revenge. I glanced at the official report from Jolie still spread on the desk, its sheer existence a taunt. A sworn statement against Constable Ari Yates. It alone would trigger Rue and Golding. The answers would soon follow. Fucking Yates. Why had he come in today?
You killed her.Jolie’s broken cries still echoed around the cavern inside my brain. I replayed her attack on Yates. Her pain and grief gave her superhuman strength.You killed her.
I know, he’d said. Over and over.I know.But how did he know when he’d claimed repeatedly that he didn’t know who the girls were?
Suicide,Jolie had explained. Gigi had killed herself.
Curious—or stalling, I couldn’t decide—I opened a new tab and performed a search for Gigi Sauvage.
When the results filled the screen, I read them with a lump in my throat.
Then I read them again, wishing they were a lie.
And again, as a new reality settled around me. Every brushstroke of her existence was sharp and clear and painfully colorful. Until it wasn’t.
I knew Gigi’s story would be horrific, but I had no idea how badly it would impact me.
