Desperate to Touch

The piece that’s desperate to save my broken hero. So damaged by a life he chose not to run from.

“You first,” I whisper, shaking my head. “And you see someone,” I tell him, already deciding it won’t be me. It can’t be.

It’s pitch black outside, and a gust of harsh wind throws the curtains to the side as the policeman roars, “We’re coming in!”

“Go, quick,” I say as I usher him to the window. My hand brushes against his side, against the blood. Seth doesn’t react, but his jaw’s clenched tight. “Let me help you,” I beg him as he climbs out of the window and onto the metal fire escape stairs that lead down the side of the old brick building.

He’s quick to climb out into the dark night.

The police are coming and I’ll be damned if I let Seth take the fall. He still has both hands on the windowsill. The gun sitting on the sill cements my decision.

“Come on, Babygirl.” His tone is gentle as he waits for me to climb out too and to run. “I’ve got you.”

I can already hear my defense. They broke in here, they threatened me. I did it. I killed them but it was in self-defense. He can get help, he can take care of himself. They can’t blame him for this.

If he did it, if he’s the one to go down for their murders… There’s intent, drug wars, previous offenses.

I love him, but I hate him.

He hurts me, but he saves me.

Maybe I’m confused, maybe it’s the endorphins rushing through me, the fear, the unknown. I don’t know what it is, but I rip the gun from the sill, whispering for him to go to the hospital and slam the window closed the second his hand raises in confusion and defense. The look of betrayal doesn’t register in his eyes until I lock the window.

Bang! Bang! Two kicks sound at the door behind me and I suck in a harsh breath.

My fingers are clenched around the edge of the curtains, ripping them shut and hiding him from the police as the door slams open.

It’s chaotic and my head spins with uncertainty.

“Laura Roth, put the gun down slowly.”

It’s hard to breathe, let alone register what I’ve done. My knees give in and I slowly drop to the ground. There was one rap on the window, one harsh pounding of a fist and I know it’s Seth’s. But only one and then he’s gone.

Run, Seth. Please, run for me. Get help. I can’t stop picturing the hole in his side. He’ll get help faster this way. He’ll be okay. I have to believe that he’ll be okay.

He’ll understand. When it’s all over and I’m free. He’ll understand.

My body’s hot and still trembling as I drop to the floor, following the instructions of Officer Walsh. I recognize his voice. Walsh. Walsh is the one behind me and there are other cops as well, walking around and checking bodies. They call out that they’re dead.

“All of them?” Walsh asks and someone answers yes.

I don’t even know how many police officers are with him as he grabs one wrist and then the other. I stare blankly ahead at the curtain. At the spot where I last saw Seth’s face.

“I know you didn’t do this,” Walsh whispers as another cop behind me calls out that he’s gone too.

The police sirens ring out loud behind the windows. I wish it were an ambulance.

“It was self-defense.” I clear my throat and tell Walsh as he pulls me up and onto my feet. He huffs out like he doesn’t believe me.

“One of them was undercover, Laura. Your excuse isn’t going to work.”

Undercover… a cop. A chill travels along my skin.

No. Fuck. No.

My heart slams, skittering to a halt and refusing to go on. I can’t breathe. “You’re lying.” My voice raises as I start to say, “You just want me to—” before I cut myself off. He’s lying. The cold metal of the cuffs digs into my skin as he turns me around. Walsh’s light blue eyes stare into mine with pity.

“I’m taking you in even though I know you didn’t do this. You’re going to tell me everything though. You have to. Someone has to go down for this.”

He’s wrong. Walsh has to be wrong.

I didn’t just confess to killing an undercover cop.

Seth

There’s at least three of them. A gun to my temple. A hand keeping the gag in my mouth. The cloth is slipping back farther down my throat, strangling me as I breathe harshly through my nose. With only a single streetlight a block away, I can’t see shit. I heard the cops practically knock down Laura’s door and bucked back, screaming, fighting, but it was useless. I’d already been grabbed.

The rage is brutal, just like the heat that boils inside of me.