She slides a stack of forms toward me. “I’m going to need you to read and sign these. It’s a sworn statement.”
My hands shake as I pick up the pen. My name looks strange when I write it, like it belongs to someone else—someone braver, maybe.
About an hour later, as we stand to leave, Reeves squeezes my shoulder, firm and reassuring. “You did the right thing.”
I want to believe him. But as we walk back through the bright, humming station, all I can think is that Daniel knows where I work. He knows where I live. And even here, surrounded by badges, I don’t feel safe yet.
I just feel seen.
And for now, that has to be enough.
The next morning at work, I can barely steady my hands enough to pour a draft without spilling foam everywhere. My mind keeps replaying the day before—Daniel's breath on my neck, his handtrapping me against my car, the terrifying rage when I sprayed him.
Reeves wipes down the bar, his movements deliberate, controlled. Too controlled.
"Did you go see him?" I ask suddenly.
He doesn't look up. Just keeps wiping the same spot over and over.
"Reeves."
"Drop it, Liza."
My stomach turns. "You did. You went to see Daniel."
He tosses the rag into the sink. "Yeah. I did."
"Are you insane?" My voice rises, sharp enough that Greg glances over from the pool tables. I lower it to a hiss. "What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking someone needed to make it clear he can't pull that shit."
"Did you touch him?"
Silence.
"Reeves. Did you touch him?"
He finally meets my eyes. "I shoved him. He fell on his ass. That's it. The asshole deserved it."
"That'sit?" I stare at him, my pulse hammering. "You put your hands on him? Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"Yeah. I made sure he knows you're not alone."
"You gave him exactly what he wants!" My hands shake as I grip the edge of the bar. "You think shoving him scared him off? He's not scared of you. He'sfurious. And now he has another target."
"Good. Let him come after me instead of you."
"That's not how this works!" My voice cracks. "Daniel doesn't think like you. He doesn't back down. He escalates. Healwaysescalates."
Reeves' jaw tightens. "You think I'm just gonna sit around while he stalks you? While he corners you in parking lots?"
"I think you don't understand how dangerous he is."
"I understand plenty."
"No. You don't." I'm shaking now, anger and fear tangled so tight I can't tell them apart. "He's not some drunk asshole you can intimidate. He's smart. He's patient. And now you've given him another reason to come after me."
"Or I've given him a reason to stay the fuck away."
