DESI
I stared at the card.She had spoken to a police officer? When? Had they come here, or had she gone to them? So many questions pounded in my head as the blood rushed in my ears.
“Two officers came by. I didn’t tell them anything,” she swore. Her eyes were large and the fear on her face was evident. “Desi, I don’t know what’s going on.”
I crumpled up the card and shoved it in my pocket. “Nothing is going on. Just some cops trying to harass me.” I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m sorry they came here.”
“It’s fine.” She crossed her arms. “They were just asking about our date, but I kept it short.”
“What exactly did they want?” I tried my hardest to be invested in the conversation without looking too insane.
“There’s some guy missing. Maybe it’s the dead guy in your trunk,” she said in a playful tone.
I didn’t share her joke.
Her smile dropped.
“Desi?”
The word echoed in my head. The word that had given me such joy in such a small amount of time,Desi, was now ruined.
“Desi, why aren’t you laughing?” Her voice sounded so far away. As if we weren’t even in the same universe. She took a step back, causing me to step out of it. I forced a half smile, but it was too late. She had seen past my veil. She knew the truth without me having to tell her. Her eyes flicked away from mine. She looked at the round table.
There was a fraction of a second where we were both frozen, watching the other. She moved, and I launched for her. She flew around the table, and I followed behind as fast as I could. She reached for something on her countertop and I heard the telltale sound of a knife being pulled from the block.
“Stop!” I cried out, arms outstretched, trying to grab her, but she was quick, and ran from the room. I fell to the floor but caught myself and leapt up. “Scout!”
“Don’t come near me!” She walked backward into her living room, watching me with large, terrified eyes. She thrust the knife in my direction with shaky hands.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Calm down.” I spoke slowly, trying to relax her. It didn’t.
“Why didn’t you laugh?” she demanded. “Was there really a dead body in your trunk?”
One.
Two.
Three.
“Yes.”
Tears slid down her cheeks. Her chin trembled. “You killed someone?” she asked so softly it was almost as if she was afraid to hear the answer.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
How could I tell her the truth? That I had ended someone’s life so that I could take her on a date.
“I don’t want to tell you,” I answered honestly.
“Why did you kill that man the police are looking for?” she repeated her original question.
“You’re just going to yell at me!” I threw up my hands.
“You’re afraid I’m going to get mad?” She stared at me as if I were the insane one. “Desi, I’m so far beyond mad right now.”
“What are you?” I asked, trying to gauge where her head was at.
