“What?” Her voice shakes. Her trembling hand not in mine, rubs her forehead in confusion.
My stomach turns as I watch her process what I’ve told her.
“He… But that would… He tried to kill me?”
I nod my confirmation. Not wanting to say the words out loud.
As the news sets in, her first tear slides down her cheek. The need to make this better for her is all-consuming. Yet, I have no idea how to.
I squeeze in next to her on the bed, pulling her against my chest. The lack of space for me on this side of the bed means one foot stays on the ground. All I want to do is wrap my body around her and shield her from the world.
“Shh. I got you, baby. I got you.”
She’s stiff in my arms. The feeling of helplessness is a physical pain in my chest. I would do anything for this woman. The frustration of knowing right now there is nothing I can do to make the reality of her situation better is nearly unbearable.
Shaking, she lifts her face from my tear-soaked shirt. “But… why? Why would he do that?”
“Obviously because he’s a sick piece of shit.”
“But you found him, right? Got his information from the dating site.”
“His profile is gone.” I do my best to keep my voice low and calm, but the more I tell her, the more her body shakes, no matter how tightly I hold on to her. “Nobody with the name Wesley Barnes rented a car or took a flight out of the area. It was a fake profile. We got his description from the witness, so we were able to track him at the airport.”
“I was fucking catfished?”
“Well, when he left, he got on a flight that took him to Boston. I don’t think he was from Colorado.”
“So, I wasn’t just catfished. I was duped by a murdering psycho.”
Not knowing what to say, I stay quiet thinking through my next sentence. She’s right, but I don’t need to confirm it for her.
“Listen, we’re gonna find him. I’m in touch with the Feds and the Massachusetts State Police. If you’re feeling up for it, tomorrow the Feds are going to come by with pictures of everyone from the flight manifesto for you to identify him. They’re going to ask you questions, and you need to tell them everything you remember. The smallest detail might help them find this guy.”
She tries to push herself up, but her propped leg makes it a struggle, so I give her space and move back to the chair. I take her hand in mine again, trying to prevent her from climbing out of the bed. “I need to thank that woman, Owen. The witness. Is there any way to get her information? Do you know her name?”
“Her name is Kristel and I can ask, baby.”
Her body relaxes. “Thank you.”
“I know this is a lot, but you need to stay in bed and relax.”
“Someone tried to kill me, and you want me to relax?” she shouts, then winces in pain, looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
“Clover, you’re here with me. Nobody will get near you. I’ve got you.”
“I can’t stay here forever, Owen.”
“Besides the fact that I forbid anyone else to bathe you, you’re staying with me not only until you’re better but until you’re safe.”
Forever sounds about right.
“Are you sure?”
“God, you’re beautiful.”
She thanks me before asking more questions. And even though I can’t answer most of them, I do my best to give her what information I have. Then, I insist she call her family. And she counters with, “Tomorrow.”
As fucked up as it is, having her here, with me, and nobody knowing eases my mind.
