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“He’s in his office. After they exchanged words, Nate followed me in here, cornered me, and then threatened me. He tried to kick me in the stomach, but I avoided him.”
This has her cries turning to wails. “And all I could think of was our baby.”
The desire to follow and push him in front of an oncoming car is high, but I stay, holding my girl. I’ll hold her a little longer while her trembles continue to course through her.
I settleSandra on the couch after we cross over the threshold of her apartment. “What can I get you?” I ask.
“Can you make me some tea, please?”
Her hands are still shaking a bit, but the color has returned to her face. Her entire countenance has changed since the encounter, and she holds onto her stomach in a protective way.
The doorbell rings, and I hear a familiar whine behind it. He’s not waiting tonight. That dog is so damn insightful. He knows something is wrong with his mommy.
Pulling it back, Otis is through the door like a bullet with Mrs. Winslow close behind. “Is she okay?” she asks. I’d given her a small run down of what had happened when I asked if it was okay if she held onto Otis a bit longer.
“She’s getting there, especially now that her baby boy is back.”
There’s a tense smile on Mrs. W’s face. “Okay, I’ll let you get back to her.”
Sandra isn’t in the mood for company, nor has she told anyone, even her sister, about the baby.
Doctoring her tea the way I know she loves, I set it next to her, making myself comfortable on the couch. Otis must sense something is wrong with Sandra, because he doesn’t chuff as I move his compact and sturdy body.
“Talk to me. Besides the obvious, what’s going on in your beautiful mind?”
She begins to cry, barely getting the words out. “I can’t. I can’t tell you what’s going on in my mind right now, because it’s not fair.”
There’s a series of phone calls and texts coming through our cells all at the same time.
She reaches for hers as I look at my own.
My body instantly stills, and one look at Sandra and her face is ashen again.
I scroll through my texts. It’s a message from Garner.
Garner:Stay put. Don’t go anywhere.
I don’t know if he’s telling me this as his best friend or a police officer, as the headline on the local news website reads:
“Local billionaire’s boyfriend pushed in front of moving traffic. Dies instantly on scene. Witness verifies an argument an hour before where Daimen Torano’s little brother threatened his life.”
No doubt they’d use my connection with my brother to sell more copies.
“Oh, fuck!” Sandra shrieks after reading the article on her phone.
And what a shitstorm of a clusterfuck this whole thing is.
thirty-three
SANDRA
“And you’ve been with Mr. Torano since the altercation with Mr. Hollerman?”
The detective is doing his job, I get it, but how many times can I answer the same question? Dom and I were separated when we arrived at the precinct. As a favor, Garner asked to bring him in, but I’ve not seen my boyfriend or his best friend at all.
“The first time you asked me, I answered you, explaining that I was with Dominic since the altercation. In the ten times you’ve asked me this same question, my answer has not changed.”
“I don’t believe you. Surely you had to go to the bathroom, or—”
