“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” I feel like I should have, and I don’t know why I didn’t. “Want to talk about it?”
“He had a stroke and fell down the stairs, or his falling down the stairs caused the stroke. The doctors aren’t really sure. But regardless, it caused a brain bleed, and he was essentially bedridden until he passed away.”
I want to know more about it, the details, little things. I want to find out how she’s really feeling now and how she really was when it happened, but my focus has to be on her safety, so I’ll come back to it another time. “Explain the cops not believing you?”
“That probably wasn’t the right way to put it. I went to the station a few times, but they said there’s nothing they can do about a feeling.”
“Did you at least file a report?”
She shook her head. “I’m probably just paranoid.”
“You’re not. I believe you.”
“But there hadn’t been proof, no evidence. I thought it was probably because I never got over my past…trauma or whatever.”
I put my hand up to stop her rambling. “If your gut is telling you something, you never ignore it.”
“I know. You always told me that, but I still felt stupid and—”
“You’re not stupid.”
“Okay, not stupid.” She makes little circles by her ear. “Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.”
If I wasn’tthis closeto losing my mind, I’d laugh. “You said therehadn’tbeen evidence, did something change?”
“Tonight, last night, whatever, I came home from being out with a co-worker, and my window was open by the fire escape. I never leave my window open because my cat would get out.” She sniffles, and I sit in front of her again and hold her hands. “I’d never risk that happening, but the window was open, and she was gone, and I know I didn’t leave it open, and I’m so sick of being scared, and I just…she was gone, and I thought I heard someone walking up the fire escape, and I freaked out, didn’t even look for Joan Wick and ran.”
My grip tightened. “To me.”
“To you.”
“I’m glad you did, sweetheart, but I gotta ask—Joan Wick?”
Her chin quivers. “I found her in an alley surrounded by dead mice. I thought it was fitting.”
I really try not to laugh.Joan Wick. “Well, it sounds like she can take care of herself at least.”
“Maybe three years ago, but now she’s domesticated. The streets are no place for a cat with a sparkly pink collar who sleeps on an orthopedic bed and has an automatic feeder.”
“She’ll be okay. But right now, you’re not, so…” I cup her face and brush my thumb across her swollen cheek. “It’s time to get you out of these clothes.”
Don’treadintoit.
Annie
“What?”
“Time to get you out of these.” He repeats, tugging on my damp jeans. “You need to take a warm shower, then get into dry clothes so we can go find your cat.”
“What? But I live like two hours away, and it’s almost morning, and I’m sure you have work, and I—”
He puts his finger over my mouth, and despite everything going on, I fight the urge to part my lips. “You’re not crazy, you’re not overreacting, and you’re not going to sit here and cry because your cat is missing and think I’m not going to do something about it. While we’re at your place, I’ll do some recon and install a couple of cameras, but we’re going to find Joan Wick.”
“But…” My throat is already dry, but the more he talks, the worse it got. So much so that I have to take a drink of water to speak. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask, you never have to ask if I’ll have your back.” He narrows his eyes. “I’m mildly pissed that you waited this long to come to me. I mean, seriously, Annie? A year?” Then something happens and his entire demeanor changes. “Why? You didn’t think I could protect you?” he accuses, each syllable coated in bitterness. “Think I’m too weak to keep you safe? Can’tdo anything more than break up bar fights and haul kegs?” His jaw clenches. He turns his head and grits, “Fuck.”
Whoa.
