“College student, rich kid. Harmless, the dealing is just at NYU.”
Jimmy shook his head and slid the paper back my way. “Nah. I’ll pass. People like that do crazy shit. He’s probably got a gun he doesn’t know how to use in his nightstand.”
“Please,” I said, and it came out exactly as desperate as I felt.“This is for my daughter. She’s—” My voice cracked. “I need that phone.”
Jimmy looked uncomfortable with my display of emotion. He made a pensive, pinched face as he looked up at the mirror above the bar, then took another long pull of his beer. He reached forward and snatched the paper, jammed it in the breast pocket of his windbreaker, already sliding out of the booth. “One whiff this thing is going south and I’m out.”
To my surprise, Aidan was already at Bar Six when I arrived. Not even a little late. He was sitting at a table in the back with two glasses of red wine, which was … weird. This wasn’t a date. And he was sitting so upright, like he was on his very best behavior. He waved and smiled brightly when he saw me. The money. He was going to ask about it again; that was for sure.
“Kyle and Cleo are back together,” I said, trying to get to the point quickly so Aidan didn’t derail us with his own agenda. “I have confirmation.”
He shrugged. “I guess we could have seen that coming.” As if he hadn’t been maintaining I was being paranoid this whole time. It was straight-up gaslighting.
“Anyway, you should know Kyle has evidence on his phone of Cleo selling.” It was hard to hear the words out loud, but I forced myself to keep going. “Evidence that he can hand over to the police anytime he wants.”
“Really?” Finally a hint of concern in Aidan’s eyes.
“I’m handling it,” I said.
Aidan made a face. “Handling it how?”
“I’m getting the phone,” I said. Which I was hoping was a burner. So that the photos were only there and not already all over the cloud.
“What do you mean?” Aidan gave me a questioning look.There weren’t a lot of legal options for obtaining a phone that didn’t belong to you.
“The details don’t matter,” I said. “But I should have it by the morning. But we still need to get her away from Kyle, permanently, Aidan.”
“I’ll help in any way I can. I mean that, Kat,” he said, and sincerely it seemed. “I know I’ve been—listen, I’m trying here.”
“I know.” I stood and took a swig of wine before setting the glass back down. I wanted to get out of there before he started asking for the money again and things turned tense. This had actually been almost pleasant.
“You’re not staying?” Aidan looked wounded.
“No,” I said. “I have somewhere else I need to be.”
Cleo’s dot on my phone was heading east across the NYU campus.Please, don’t let her be making another drop.I didn’t think I could handle watching that again. When the dot stopped at the Bobst Library, I slowed my pace down Sixth Avenue and loosened my grip on the phone.
But it wasn’t until I spotted Cleo through the library’s glass façade that I allowed myself to relax. She was inside with her friend Nadine, both had headphones on, hunched over their books like regular old college kids. Occasionally, they’d look up and exchange some knowing look or point to something on one of their phones. I liked Nadine. She was a good kid, a solid one. The kind I could not imagine would ever date a drug dealer, much less deal drugs herself.
When a boy in a black baseball hat and puffy white jacket appeared at Cleo and Nadine’s table, all I could think wasNo.I moved closer. Yes, it was definitely Kyle. He knocked on the table. Cleo looked up in his direction—not surprised or scared. Not pleased, either. More like she had been expecting him. Kyle said something, and then turned to leave. He didn’t give a shithow many times I warned him, did he? He was going to keep coming after her, forever.
Cleo returned to her books. Nadine stared at Kyle as he walked away. Once he was out of sight, she leaned in to ask Cleo something. MaybeWhat was that about?But Cleo just shook her head without looking up.
A moment later, the door to the library burst open and there was Kyle sauntering down the steps, pants ridiculously low, baseball cap lopsided on his head. Walking right past me like he didn’t have a care in the world. And there I was, following him again. Even though I was angry enough that it was a bad idea. Even though … what was it, exactly, that I planned to do?
The knife in my bag. I knew better than to let my mind go there. Except there I was, thinking of it, following Kyle like I had a purpose, an endgame in mind. I picked up my pace when he turned left, heading downtown instead of west toward his apartment. Right on Mercer, deeper into the shadows now. I wondered for a moment if Kyle knew I was behind him. If he was leading me into the darkness on purpose. And then there he was, turning into a building, a dorm on the corner of Third Street and LaGuardia Place. Or he was trying to. I darted across the street and watched him flash his ID, but the security guard shook his head and held up a hand before turning back inside. Rejecting Kyle specifically, or any visitor who didn’t live there—it was impossible to tell.
Kyle shook his head, then shouted something after the guy before pulling out his phone to send a text. He seemed to wait for a response, then texted some more. He’d be on the move again soon, disappearing into the darkness of the quiet side streets. I could put an end to this myself, right now, without anyone seeing. The world would be better off without Kyle; there was no doubt about that. But then, what would become of me?
Because this would be so different from that night. Back then, I was only a kid. And I’d been scared and in pain and so confused standing in the bathroom the next morning. When I looked down at the blood on my legs, I thought,You wanted this.And then I thought,No, you didn’t.I didn’t even know whatthiswas, exactly. There was just him and his threats and me and all that rage. And the knife on the bedside table that he had used to slice a lime.
But this was me calculating. With time to think.
I watched now as Kyle lit a cigarette and propped himself against the building. A moment later, a couple emerged, arms crossed, shivering—the guy scruffily cute, the girl pretty and blond and, oddly, barefoot. It wasn’t until the guy fist-bumped Kyle that I recognized the girl: Annie, Janine’s daughter? Yes, it was. It was most definitely her. I watched the quick, furtive exchange between her and Kyle, looked again at her bare feet. Annie, buying drugs from Kyle.
Annie was a good kid, though. She was obviously in over her head. I needed to warn her away from Kyle. I could do that one good thing.
The security guard who had rebuffed Kyle so emphatically seemed to perk up when I stepped inside, but then he tried to act casual, like he hadn’t even noticed me. Demure damsel in distress—it was the obvious way to go. I smiled tentatively, twisted my hands. “I’m sorry, do you think you could help me with something maybe?”
