What She Didn't Know (What She 1)

I stopped the car next to the curb. Ash sat on the edge, near the corner, with a big burly cop next to her. He had dark skin and kind eyes. But most important, he was nice enough to call me, so I owed him one. I got out of my car and stuck out my hand as he stood up. “Mason Peterson. Thanks for calling me.”

“She’s a piece of work, huh?” he said.

“You have no idea.”

He laughed. “I was a little worried for the other guy. I’m pretty sure she broke his arm.”

“Not me,” Ash whispered fiercely. “Shelly!”

“Does she always talk in riddles when she’s drunk?” He stared down at her like she had two heads.

“She talks in riddles even when she’s not drunk,” I admitted. It was true. Why lie about it?

“I saw the whole thing,” he said. “One second, this dude reached out to put his hand on her hip, and then he was on his back gasping for air. A friend of his tried to pull her off, but she belted him across the throat and he went down like a stone.” He chuckled, but it was a sound without any humor in it. “You’ll never have to worry about this one taking care of herself.”

“She’s a joy to have around,” I replied, deadpan.

“Next thing I knew, she was sweet as pie. She got off him, and asked me for a phone so she could call you. I couldn’t say no.” He shrugged.

“Thank you again for calling me.”

“No problem.”

“What about the other guy?” I asked. “Do I need to do anything there?”

He chuckled. “That guy won’t go grabbing another unsuspecting woman any time soon. Not after that ass whooping.”

I was thinking along the lines of restitution for medical bills, but whatever.

“He got what was coming to him,” the officer said. He nodded toward Ash. “Take her home. This job is over.”

“Thank you again.”

I looked at Ash, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking gently. She had laid her cheek on her knees, and stared into space.

“You ready to go home?” I asked her.

She looked up at me and smiled. “Yes.”

“…Ash?” I asked.

She nodded and heaved out a breath. “Still me.”

I held out a hand and she took it, her fingers gentle and soft.

“Thanks for coming to get me.”

“I’d go just about anywhere for you,” I admitted, albeit reluctantly.

“Because you love me,” she sang out.

I helped her into the car and closed the door, staring down at her for a moment. Truth was, I did love her.

I loved her. That was part of the problem.

11

“How much did you have to drink?” I asked as I led her through the front door.