Lost Boy
“I can’t change the past. I’m sorry for my part in what happened to you.”
Clenching my fists into tight balls, I scream, letting the pain and anger rip through me until I’m sobbing in a heap on the floor of my apartment.
“Just go,” Charlotte barks out to Hernandez. The door opens and closes, and then she’s covering my body with hers, whispering, “It will be okay. I’m here. I’m never leaving you.”
I cling to her. If she did leave, it would kill me.SeventeenMuscles in my face ache from the tears. The skin on my cheeks is chapped and sore. I lay staring up at the ceiling, overwhelmed by my surging emotions. Sleep evades me. Sitting up, I grab some running gear and tie my hair into a low ponytail, sneaking past Charlotte’s room so I don’t wake her. Slipping on my sneakers, I snatch up my earbuds and hit the stairs.
The street is empty, all except one car. Crossing the street, I tap my knuckles on the window, startling Detective Barnett. Hitting a button, he rolls down his window, grunting his acknowledgment. “What are you doing out here?” I ask, sounding accusatory.
“Just keeping an eye on things.”
“On me you mean?” The cold seeps into my clothes, sending a shiver through me. “Isn’t this below your pay grade?” Since when do detectives get stationed outside apartment buildings? When they have a suspect. The realization almost knocks the wind from my lungs. “Am I a suspect, detective?” An absurd laugh bubbles out of me.
Shaking his head, he opens his door and steps out of the car, looking around the street. He adjusts his coat and slips on a pair of gloves. “I’m just here to make sure no one enters the apartment building who doesn’t live here.”
Liar. Liar. Liar. And can you do that while napping? Idiot.
“Am I a suspect?” I ask more firmly.
“Your blood was found in the apartment of a missing woman. Your prints were on a knife.” I grabbed the knife to protect myself. Shit, what an idiot. “You know the victims.”
“Not all of them—the street worker.” I cross my arms.
“How do you know about her?” His brow furrows.
“Hernandez mentioned her. I hardly fit the profile for this killer, Detective.”
“What are you doing up at this hour?” he asks, checking his watch and changing the subject.
“I have trouble quieting my mind, so I run.” I jerk my chin to his car.
Stretching his arm to rub the back of his neck, he asks, “Want company?”
Smirking, I look him over. “You can run in that?”
“I can drive in this,” he counters. Pushing in my earbuds, I hit my playlist and take off. Knowing he’s behind me watching makes me feel more at ease. By the time I make it back to the apartment, the sun is kissing the horizon, and I have a sheen of sweat coating every inch of my body. I hold up my hand to wave goodbye to the detective and push into the apartment building. As soon as I make it up to our apartment Charlotte is standing there in her underwear, her arms crossed.
“What the fuck?” she growls.
“I needed to run,” I defend, curling my earbud wire around my phone.
“Alone—after everything?” She waves her hands in the air for effect.
“Would you have come?” I counter with a raised brow, peeling my shirt over my head.
“Gross, no, but I would have talked you out of going.” She sniffs at me, crinkling her nose.
“I wasn’t alone. Detective Barnett kept me company.” I nod to the window, kicking off my sneakers.
She rushes to the window, attempting to crank her neck to see, but it’s not possible from our angle. “Why would he be out there?”
“I’m a suspect it would appear,” I call out. “Be careful, I might murder you next.” I add a, “Muahahaha,” but she doesn’t find it funny.
She’s at my bedroom door, giving me a scathing glare. “Are they fucking serious? A murderer is out there killing women and they stalk you?” Shaking her head, she turns on her heel. “I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”
“Put your tits away first or you’ll give him more than a piece of your mind,” I call out.The shop is freezing again, and Jeff is banging away at something in the basement. He refuses to pay for an actual electrician, the cheap bastard. My hands are numb, and I debate pouring hot water over them to thaw them out. Clicking through some research on Charlotte’s laptop for class so I don’t fall behind is the only thing taking my mind off the fact I’m freezing to death slowly but surely. I read the same article a couple of times over while my brain begins shutting down. A long-term study of over ten thousand adopted children in Denmark strongly indicates a predisposition to chronic criminal components may be inherited.