The doorbell rang and my stomach dropped.
Fuck. Jae must have texted him.
No, no, no. I slammed my head against the wall in frustration. I could hear the faint sounds of them talking and I quickly pulled myself up off the floor, little white dots fillingmy vision. I pushed through the dizziness and rushed out of my room, ready to yell at Jae for bugging him.
Of course he didn’t believe me when I said I wasn’t drunk or high. And could I blame him? I didn’t fucking believe my own mind right now. I sounded like I was drunk or high.
Cheese and fucking rice.
I made it to the top of the stairs, stopping at the landing that would give me a view of the front door.
“I’m sorry, what exactly is this about?” Jae asked.
My brows bunched with confusion. That wasn’t Rick. Who the hell was he talking to?
The man at the door suddenly locked eyes with me and I swallowed nervously, hastily wiping at my face.
“Enoch Reznikovsky?”
Jae turned around to find me at the top of the stairs. “Don’t say anything, Enoch.”
“Hi, Mr. Reznikovsky,” the man greeted with a closed mouth smile. “I’m Deputy Bradley Shaw of the US Marshals Service. I’d like to come in and speak to you,privately.”
My head was spinning. This was a fucking nightmare, right? Another hallucination?
“Jae?” I asked hesitantly, not taking my eyes off the man. He was dressed plainly in a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and a ballcap. “He’s real, right? Like, you see him too?”
Jae groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Yes. He’s real. And he’s not. Coming. In.”
“Enoch, Ineedto speak to you. Urgently. This is regarding the woman you ran into today.”
Oh fuck! She called the cops on me? Why the hell is a US Marshals Deputy here then?
“What do you mean?” Jae asked. “What woman?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name,” the deputy said, smiling at Jae.
“I’m his brother, and you’re not talking to him without me present.” Jae crossed his arms, blocking the deputy’s direct view of me. “Now, whatwomanare you talking about?”
“Emory Crawford,” the deputy said, although he was staring at me. “The woman from the climbing gym.”
I gripped the railing, slowly lowering myself to a seated position.
“Can I please come inside?”
“What the hell is going on here? Who is Emory Crawford?”
The man sighed, pursing his lips, finally breaking our eye contact to look at Jae. “I can’t exactly tell you that, unless you’re going to let me in to talk.”
Jae scoffed, “Fuck that. You need to leave before I call the actual police. Your little badge doesn’t mean shit to me. You probably made it yourself on Photoshop or something.”
“You don’t wanna do that,” he warned. “Listen, it’s clear you’re distrustful of authority, and I understand you may be confused, and I’ll explain, just…let me in.”
Maybe it was desperate desire for an explanation for the impossibility that Shiloh was alive, or maybe it was the innate sense of respect for authority figures that the military had only strengthened. Either way, I finally picked my jaw up off the floor and forced myself down the steps. I shoved Jae out of the way, stepping aside for the man to enter.
“Enoch! What the hell are you doing?!”
I ignored Jae. Deputy Shaw nodded at me as he crossed the threshold. “You got a table or a couch or something? You’re probably going to want to sit down for this.”
