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“Unfortunately, Mr. Steel, I don't have the luxury of presumption,” Lundgren claps back, his voice hardening. “If I took this before a judge to get an arrest warrant, I would be laughed out of the place. I heard what is probably Robert, I agree. But without proper authentication and evidence, there's nothing I can do to him in the eyes of the law.”
“That's fucking fantastic. Just fucking fantastic,” I declare. “So, while this guy gets to walk around free as a fucking bird, planning out everything he's going to do when he gets his hands on Emily, you sit there with your thumb in your ass. That about it, Detective?”
The cop sighs on the on the end of the line. “I understand your frustration –”
In a blur of movement, Emily gets to her feet, her eyes narrowed to slits, her face red with rage. “No, you don't understand my frustration, Detective. You have no goddamn idea what it's like to live in this constant state of fear, never knowing which shadow this asshole is going to pop out of next,” she screams. “You have no idea what it's like to be afraid to walk to your car at night because Robert might be lurking in an alley nearby, ready to grab me. Or worse, in my back seat waiting for me. You have no idea what it's like to never, ever feel safe, so spare me your patronizing bullshit!”
There's a silence on the other end of the line that goes on so long, I'm half-convinced Lundgren hung up at some point during Emily's withering assault. I look up at her, giving her a grim smile and a nod. I'm impressed by her fire. By her righteous anger. She's a woman who could sit back and passively let this all happen to her, but she's standing up for herself. She's found her courage and her voice, and she's using them both.
Lundgren clears his throat and finally speaks. “You're right. You're right, and I'm sorry,” he says. “I didn't mean to diminish what you're dealing with.”
“You have from day one. You've never taken this seriously,” Emily fires back. “You refuse to do anything to discourage Robert and because of that you've emboldened him to the point that now, I feel like my life is in actual danger.”
“I really am sorry for that, Emily. You'll never know how sorry I am,” Lundgren replies softly. “I need you to understand though, there is only so much wiggle room for me to operate in within the confines of the law.”
“Don't give me more of your, 'my hands are tied,' speeches, Detective,” Emily presses. “I'm pretty sure if I were some celebrity, or somebody really wealthy and important, I'd have all the help from the police I could ever want. But since I'm a nobody, I can just fucking fend for myself. Right?”
I expected Lundgren to get upset. Defensive. Emily is blasting him, and all I can do is sit there and watch in awe. I've always known that she's strong. She has a core of steel. But she seems to have reserves of strength I've never seen before. I don't think I've ever seen her be this passionate about anything. I've certainly never seen her this angry – not even the first night I approached and annoyed her back in college.
Surprisingly, Lundgren takes it all in stride. When he speaks, he doesn't come across as particularly upset. If anything, the tone of his voice sounds – resigned.
“You're probably not wrong about that, Emily. And I'm sorry,” Lundgren says. “The system is set up – truthfully, the system is fucked. And we're failing you – and women like you.”
Finally, a shred of truth from the man. Finally, something that isn't merely pandering or spouting the company line. In his voice, I can actually hear a hint of frustration. Perhaps it stems from his inability to legally do what's necessary to stop these kinds of things from happening. Perhaps it's something more. I don't really care, so long as he steps up and does something to get that piece of shit off the street.
“Listen Emily,” he begins. “There isn't much I can do legally – not without suffering consequences of my own. But I promise you that I'm going to make life a little more difficult for Robert. He's going to know we're watching him. And I promise you that we will.”
Emily lets out a long breath and sits back down on the couch. She's scared. She's frustrated. While Lundgren's offer is something, it's not enough. Even I know that. I worry that if anything, the impotent response to Robert is only going to encourage him further. Telling him they're watching him – but not actually doing anything – will undoubtedly anger him. And when he gets angry, what will that mean for Emily?
“Thank you, Detective,” Emily says, sounding tired. Sounding defeated.
She disconnects the call and sits back on the couch, folding herself up into a ball again. She looks wrung out. Emotionally exhausted. Honestly, my heart goes out to her. I can't even begin to imagine what living with the nightmare that is Robert would be like. I can't imagine having to be on your guard twenty-four hours a day. Or living in a constant state of fear, knowing he could just pop up anywhere, at any time. It just underscores her strength and courage for me.
And highlights my own lack of either.
“Emily listen, I –”
“I'm tired Aaron,” she says, not even looking up at me. “I'm so tired.”
“I know, I just –”
“Please leave,” she says softly. “Please just go and leave me alone.”
I open my mouth to protest but close it again. There is so much rattling around in my head and in my heart that I want to share with her. That I want to talk to her about. So much that we need to figure out. But now is not the time. I can see that by the pale, drawn look on her face.
“Okay,” I reply. “I'll go.”
I keep hoping that she'll say something, that she'll stop me before I get to the door. But she doesn't. She just lets me go. I can't help but see the symbolism as I close the door behind me, sealing her in and shutting me out.
Jared looks up at me, an expression of mild concern on his face. “Everything okay in there? I heard some yelling, but didn't want to interrupt in case –”
“Yeah, Jared. Everything's fine,” I tell him. “Just keep a close eye on her. Protect her at all costs.”
“Will do,” he responds. “Anything I need to know about in particular?”
I shake my head. “Just – keep your eyes open.”
He nods and gives me a tight smile as I walk away, leaving him there looking after me as I head for the elevators. I lied to him, and I wonder if he knows it. Everything is most definitely not fine. In fact, it's about as fucking far from fine as it can get.
