Cops and detectives flooded into the room in a massive wave of blue uniforms. It was surreal – for the second time that day, I thought I was about to pass out.
“What’s going on,” I croaked, closing my eyes and resting my head against James’s shoulder as he cut the ropes binding my wrists. As soon as my hands were freed, James rubbed the skin on my wrists until blood gushed back into my hands. It was painful at first, but being able to move again was extraordinary.
“Shh, don’t talk,” James said. He gently set me back down on the bed and grabbed my ankles and knees, cutting the rope around my bare skin. As soon as I was freed, I began to shake and shiver. James took his coat off and wrapped it around my shoulders, holding me close.
Emily was screaming as one of the cops dragged her out of the apartment. As I looked at James with wide eyes, I suddenly remembered that he and I had broken up. He’d dumped me – and it was clear that nothing between us could ever be the same again.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to push James away. “You don’t have to do this. I’m okay now.”
James buried his face in my hair. “Now that I found you, I’m never going to let you go,” he whispered fiercely into my hair. “And you’ll never be alone again.”
I knew that he was lying, but in the moment it felt so good to believe him that I nodded and closed my eyes, lulled into a sense of false safety by the feeling of his arms around me.
The next few hours were a blur. The cops wanted to talk to me – James insisted that we take a few moments, then meet them downtown – and they had already gotten a confession from Emily. She’d admitted to the whole thing: bribing a bartender to pass me a drugged drink at the bar, then holding me hostage in a dirty apartment for over forty-eight hours. I was still feeling dazed from the intense dose of ketamine that she’d slipped into my drink, and talking to the cops was a surreal experience.
After Emily was led away in handcuffs, the main detective sat down and looked me in the eye.
“Hanna, I know you’re not feeling well, and I swear we’ll get you to the hospital soon. But first, you need to come downtown and answer a few questions for me – do you think you can do that?”
The last thing I wanted was to spend time in a grimy police station: it would be like torture. But I knew I didn’t have a choice. If I wanted to put Emily behind bars – and clear James’s reputation – I knew that I’d have to comply.
As soon as I nodded, the detective had James bring me downtown. In the back of his car, James handed me a bag.
“This isn’t much,” he said. “But it might help for a little bit.”
With a frown, I looked down into the bag. There was a brand-new pair of plush snow boots, a parka, a scarf, and a hat as well as jeans with the tag still on them and a cashmere sweater that looked as soft as a cat.
“Why did you bring me clothes?”
“I wanted you to be comfortable,” James said quietly.
As his car rolled on through the dark Boston streets, I realized there were a million things I wanted to say to him. I was still angry and hurt…but mostly, now, I was just confused. If he didn’t care about me at all, why the hell had he gone to so much trouble to find me and bring me warm clothing?
But I couldn’t muster up the courage. I was still in pain, dehydrated, and exhausted from my ordeal. In fact, it took all the energy I have left to change into the clothes and pull on the parka and scarf. Everything fit perfectly, and I snuggled up against the warm leather car seat as we approached the police station.
To my surprise, when Nick pulled to a stop, James put his hand on mine. “I’m coming in with you,” he said. “I’m not leaving until this is all over and settled.”
Then why did you hurt me, I thought as I climbed out from the back of James’s car, carefully avoiding the black piles of icy sleet and snow on the streets. Why are you doing this, dangling me around like a fish on a hook?
I looked up at James, wishing that he could read my mind. But of course, that was impossible. After all, what words could I even say? James had clearly acted out of guilt – he didn’t want me to be cold and alone, and he obviously felt responsible for my well-being since he’d broken my heart.
But how was I supposed to tell him that just being around him like this was more painful than being tied up in Emily’s dingy apartment? In ordinary times, I wouldn’t have thought twice about telling him to fuck off. But these weren’t ordinary times. My strength was gone, I felt sick and cold and exhausted, like I’d never be well again.
And before I got the chance to speak, James guided me inside the police station and waved to one of the detectives – the man I’d seen leading Emily out of the small apartment.
“Hanna, this is Detective Patterson,” James said. He gave me a friendly, concerned smile. Just seeing his handsome face light up made my heart ache like a burn that I’d rubbed salt over. How can he be acting so normal, I thought as Patterson led me down the hall and into a small room. Doesn’t he know that everything between us is ruined, and that it’s never going to be the same?
Chapter Seventeen
James
Waiting in the small, cramped police station was torture. Every time I heard the sound of a door opening, I’d look up, hoping to see Hanna. But I’d been there for hours, with no sign of her. Patterson hadn’t even emerged from the small room where he’d taken her as soon as we’d arrived.
As time stretched on, I tried not to think of the groveling I would have to do in order to get back into Hanna’s good graces. The way she’d looked at me in the back of the car had chilled my blood. She’d looked at me like I wasn’t really even there, like she was watching a mirror for signs of a ghost. She’d looked pained and wounded and exhausted, and I’d wanted nothing more than to sweep her into my arms and kiss her and tell her that everything was going to be okay.
Except, I had no idea whether or not things were going to be okay. I knew that I’d never be okay again if Hanna didn’t forgive me…but my own well-being didn’t matter nearly as much to me as Hanna’s did.
After three hours of sitting in the waiting room, I saw Patterson’s large frame walking toward me.
“Mr. West, I need to ask you a few questions,” he said. “If you wouldn’t mind coming with me, please.”
I got to my feet and followed Patterson down the narrow, fluorescent-lit hallway. He showed me into a small room. Hanna sat in a green chair made of fake leather and metal. When she saw me, she began to tremble.
“It’s okay,” I said. “He just wants to ask a few questions. Did he ask you to leave?”
Hanna opened her mouth to speak, but shut her lips after a few moments. She shook her head.
“Do you want some water?”
Hanna nodded gratefully. I went into the hallway and filled two white paper cones with fresh water from the cooler, then brought them into the room and handed one over.
“Be careful,” I warned. “If you haven’t had water in a few days, you might get sick.”