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The one who was at the bank, three nights ago. The one who held a knife against my throat. There won’t be a trial, no need to witness. He’s already dead.
Someone killed him while he was awaiting his sentence.
First I can’t even comprehend what I’m watching. It feels surreal on so many levels. I can’t breathe; the air has faded from my lungs. I should look away but I can’t and adrenaline pumps through my bloodstream. This is what the man sitting across from me is capable of. This is how far he can go.
For me.
My eyes carefully go to Husband and he turns around, noticing what’s on the TV then turns back again and continues eating as if nothing has happened. But I’ve lost my appetite.
“Did you have anything to do with t...that?” I stutter and he doesn’t look at me.
“With what?”
“With the death of that criminal.”
His big shoulders move in a shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Yes, he does. He told me that men like him don’t go to prison because they own them. He must’ve pulled some strings, arranged the murder. And he’s so cold and detached about it. As if causing that robber’s death wasn’t any more difficult for him than crushing a fly between his fingers.
“Aren’t you bothered even a little?” I say and he raises his brows.
“Should I be?”
His voice is callous, giving me the trembles and I realize that maybe I was wrong. After I heard him talking on the phone, I thought that there was kindness in him but maybe I was wrong. He killed a man, not necessarily by his own hands but he arranged it. And he did it in cold blood.
“I need to go use the bathroom,” I blurt and he looks at me in surprise before nodding. He gets out of the booth, then holds his hand out for me.
“Everything okay?” he asks, leading me down the hallway. “That pretty face of yours looks a bit pale.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll follow you inside just in case. Make sure you don’t black out again and hit your head.”
My eyes flare. “No! I need privacy.” I nod at him. “Please, I’ll be good.”
He strokes my cheeks with his knuckles. “I know you will. But Daphne...” he says when I turn around to open the door, “don’t try to escape through the window. It’s too small for you anyway and you’ll only get stuck.”
At that my heart drops because there goes my plan. Without a word, I walk into the bathroom and close the door behind me. My heart descends even further at the sight of the narrow, rectangular window. It would be a pathetic escape route and I curse to myself as I walk over to the sink and splash my face with cold water. When I look up, I jerk in shock as always because I haven’t yet gotten used to my new appearance.
As soon as I’m free that mane is going black again. If only to spite him. I look like I don’t belong to myself anymore but like I belong to him. Glancing at the window again, I decide that I have nothing to lose.
The window might be too small but if I manage to crawl through then I’ll easily be able to land on the street. Biting the inside of my cheek, I open it up, careful to not make a sound and then I use the sink to make it easier for me to pull my body through.
I’m halfway out when I realize that my hips are stuck. They’re too big for the small space and I pant, letting out a furious curse. Gritting my teeth, I try harder but it’s getting painful and I stop. I withdraw and land on the floor right when the door unbolts.
Husband’s face hardens and his eyes go the open window then to me and I try to curb my breathing. He knows what I tried to do. And he’s not happy.
****
Husband
I’m not happy. I thought that she was warming up to me, that she was beginning to see that we are meant to be. And yet I understand. She did what most women would have done in that situation. I put my hand on her thigh as we’re driving back home to show her that I’m not going to punish her.
But she doesn’t react, staring right ahead and I figure she is even warier of me now that she saw that news report. She knows I had that robber killed. Not because I give a fuck about the robbery but because he put a weapon against her skin.
He pierced her with that thing like she’s nothing. Like she’s someone one can be careless with, someone that other people can hurt. All I did was show him that it couldn’t be further from the truth. And from what I’ve been told, he learned his lesson well before his moment of death.
Parking the car in the garage, I squeeze Daphne’s knee to let her know that she can get out. She can’t escape from the garage anyway and she walks over to the door that leads into the house and waits for me to open it.
