Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-One
Sitting on the sofa I stare at my hands, determined to pick this frustrating piece of skin that has come up close to my cuticle. I just know it’s going to keep getting caught on things and will drive me insane. I never understand how they occur. You never really see it happen; you just suddenly one day feel a sting or feel something catch, then you look and there is another tiny piece of skin that’s come up from around your nails. It shouldn’t be so annoying, but it is.
“Lani,” I hear a familiar voice call my name.
I look up into concerned sapphire eyes. They used to smile more, but now they just seem to either look at me with guilt or concern.
“Hmm?” I hum.
“Here, I made you some hot chocolate,” Julian explains, sitting beside me and placing the mug in my hands. “Sugar is good for shock,” he assures me with a comforting smile.
Shock? Is that what this is? Honestly, I’ve been through so many emotions lately that I can barely keep them straight. They’ve all started to bleed together and now I just feel like one giant exposed nerve that someone keeps pouring salt into. I’d beg them to stop but would they even listen? I doubt it.
I lift the mug to my lips, the steam coming off the mug making my nose feel warm and damp. I take a sip and feel its warm sweetness travel down my throat and settle in my stomach. I hold the mug in both hands, allowing my skin to absorb the heat. I was starting to forget what warmth felt like.
“Miss? Miss?” another voice calls for my attention.
I look over at the ambivalent eyes of the police officer staring down at me. Nothing about his demeanour or his uniform fills me with confidence or reassurance. Does he think I’m some rich bitch complaining for a laugh because I happen to be staying in a luxury apartment? Or maybe he knows I’m an immigrant and thinks I deserve this for poisoning his country with my existence. Or maybe, he’s just like every other person in this country; overworked and underpaid to the point they’ve become so desensitized they just don’t give a shit about anything anymore.
“We’ve interviewed the doorman and gone over security cameras. Cameras show a young boy, couldn’t be older than fifteen, hand delivering the envelope to the doorman,” the officer explains.
I frown in confusion. “Fifteen? I don’t know anyone that age. The only teenager I know is my brother and he’s in another country.”
“We’ll keep looking into it. It’s possible whoever is doing this was aware of the cameras and this boy is just the messenger, but if that’s true we can find him and hopefully get a useable ID,” he says, offering me his best attempt at a reassuring smile. That’s an improvement, I suppose.
“And what about this Dylan fucker? Apparently, he was taken into custody and then just let go,” Julian spits angrily.
I reach out and give his knee a comforting squeeze. I don’t know why I’m the one trying to calm him down. I should be the one screaming or crying, but I just feel numb right now.
The officer looks at his notes before addressing Julian. “Yes, I checked about that. Dylan McNamara was brought in for questioning, but he had a solid alibi for the night in question and was released. There was no reason to hold him.”
I stare at the officer in disbelief. “He had an alibi? But he fit the description perfectly and I know for a fact he hates my guts.”
“At the time the assailant was seen fleeing your apartment, Mr McNamara was getting high with some friends, all of whom could vouch for his whereabouts.”
My brows knit together in frustration. If it wasn’t Dylan who broke into my apartment and killed Ily, then who? Who the hell else could hate me so much? Did I provide someone at one of my jobs with a terrible service that made them thirst for vengeance? I’m a nobody! I’m less than nobody. I’m nobody’s wallflower cousin that people forget even exists. I’ve never craved an extraordinary life or to be in the limelight, unlike Irina. I just wanted to keep my head down and work. So how the hell, by doing that, have I garnered the attention of some psycho who is stalking me?
“I know this is fucking shit, but they will find who is behind this,” Julian says in a comforting voice as he wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side.
“It just doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense! I’m not famous like you are. I’m no one. Who the hell would want to stalk me?!” I shout, the numbness that surrounded and protected me now starting to crack.
“Miss, it doesn’t take a lot to get these kinds of stalkers going. Sometimes it can be something as innocent as a friendly hello, a smile, passing on the street or even seeing your picture somewhere. They build this obsession in their head and this entire fictional world that they believe is real and think you’re aware of. I may not know who is doing this, but I do know it’s not your fault,” asserts the officer. Maybe he’s not entirely desensitized as I thought.
Can it really take so little to set someone off? I smile at everyone just to be friendly. Is that now something I have to be wary of? This person has taken my friend, my sense of safety, my independence and now the joy of smiling? This can’t be happening to me, it just can’t!
“It’s been weeks and none of you are any closer to catching this son of a bitch. You don’t even have any leads as to who the fuck it could be. How the fuck is she supposed to feel safe when the very people in charge of serving and protecting her are sitting on their fucking hands not doing a fucking thing to help her?!” Julian fumes beside me, his muscles tensed in anger. Didn't he just try to assure me they'd find this guy?
“Julian, it’s not his fault. He’s just doing his job,” I try to placate him.
“He’s not! That’s the whole fucking problem, Lani!”
“Mr Easton, I assure you the department is doing everything we can but unfortunately we don’t have a lot to go on. We have no eyewitnesses and no evidence to work off of. We are shooting in the dark. We are doing everything we can, but the truth is our hands are tied,” the officer admits solemnly.
“Basically, this fucker has to kill her and dump her body on your doorstep before he’s arrested is what you’re saying, right?” Julian seethes.
I recoil from the gruesome and vivid picture his words paint in my mind. He’s probably right. They’ll only finally catch him when I’m dead.
“I don’t think throwing around those kinds of theories is doing Miss Contreras here any good,” the officer lectures Julian with clear disapproval in his voice.
Julian looks at me, his eyes briefly closing regretfully as he holds me closer. “I’m sorry, Lani. It just kills me that I brought you here to keep you safe and I’m failing.”
“You haven’t failed to keep me safe, Julian, but I don’t need you getting outraged on my behalf especially since you’re not the one this is happening to, I am, so if anyone should be outraged here, it’s me,” I lash out in indignation.
I put the mug on the coffee table as I get up and make my quickly up to my room, shutting the door behind me. I grab the blanket off the end of the bed as I walk over to the couch, curling up and pulling the blanket around me as I stare out into the twinkling lights of the city. I feel like I’m hiding away in an ivory tower, but now not even the tower is safe. Whoever this person is, he knows I’m here. It doesn’t matter what I do or where I go, he keeps finding me and I don’t understand how.
“Lani?” calls Julian’s voice gently followed by a light rap on the door.
I sigh, pulling my legs against my chest, “What?”
“Can I come in?” he tentatively asks.
“It’s your house,” I remind him.
He opens the door and lets himself in. I look over to see him watching me with a sheepish look on his face. He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, probably deciding it’s better to keep a safe distance from me.
“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “You’re right, this isn’t happening to me, and I don’t have a right to get so worked up on your behalf and make this about me and how I’m feeling when you’re the one going through this. I shouldn’t have done that,” he admits.
“I don’t blame you for getting upset, and I appreciate that you care, but I’m struggling enough to make sense of all this to myself, worrying about you freaking out on top of everything is just too much for me right now and I’m sorry if that’s selfish but I am seriously over capacity right now.”
Julian nods, “No, no, you’re right. That is more than reasonable. I haven’t gone through what you have, and I honestly still can’t understand how you can be so calm and collected through all of this because I’m losing my mind. Obviously.”
“I’m not calm and collected, Julian. I just…tend to internalise more than you. Besides, what good is freaking out and lashing out at police officers going to do? It doesn’t fix anything,” I point out.
“True, but it sure does open my eyes to how inept the justice system is, that’s for fucking sure,” he scoffs.
“Fine, but that’s the system, not the officer. He’s just doing his job,” I argue.
Julian sighs looking at me compassionately, “Is there anything I can get you? Some tea? Some food? Something stronger?”
I shake my head, “I think I just want to be left alone.”
He nods and gets up from the bed, making his way over to the door. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” he assures me, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him.
I let out a long exhale as I wrap the blanket tightly around my body. I lay my head against the back of the sofa and stare out at the city lights until they start to become blurry and I feel my eyelids getting heavy until I feel the darkness of sleep pulling me under.