Page 7 of No One Has To Know

A door opens behind me, slamming shut right after. Heavy footsteps come pounding across the asphalt. The jingle jangle of a pair of handcuffs is a big clue that it’s a cop.

I scurry toward my building. I’ve made it maybe three steps before someone yells behind me.

“Stop!”

Though I know the shout isn’t for me, I’m nosy. I immediately glance over my shoulder.

I’m shocked by who’s there.

“Officer Burns?”

I didn’t recognize his voice. Any time we’ve ever spoken, he sounded so thoughtful. Kind. Friendly. The barking order to ‘stop’ was so unlike anything I ever heard from him that, even without the command, I would’ve frozen on the walkway.

It’s dark. The nearest lamppost has a broken light. His face is shadowed because of it. The rest of him is silhouetted by the red and blue lights from his haphazardly parked cruiser.

He’s marching toward me, hand on the butt of his weapon. “Angela Havers, you’re under arrest.”

What?

My back is to him. That was my mistake. I didn’t turn around. He said ‘stop’. I stopped. The second I saw him looming toward me, I wanted to see who it was he was going after. I mean, it couldn’t be me, right?

It is.

One of his hands grips my upper arm. He yanks it behind me. I let out of soft cry, half in surprise, and half because it hurt. He’s a little more gentle when he goes for my right arm. Still, when he tugs back against his hard chest, I feel the impact through my whole body.

I never get the chance to scream. Something pricks me and I’m a little distracted by that. I let out a yelp that turns into a gasp when the cold metal of Officer Burns’s handcuffs lock around one wrist, then the other in quick succession.

“What are you doing?” I ask when I finally find my voice. “I… I thought you were a good guy.”

“I’m the best, angel,” he tells me. “That’s why you made me do this.”

Angel?

Made him dowhat?

Something… something’s wrong. My head feels fuzzy. I’ve got black spots dancing in front of my eyes. If my vision’s suddenly going, maybe my hearing is, too.

“Angela,” I slur. My name is Angela.”

He knows that. He said my name when he told me I was under arrest.

Only… under arrest for what?

He’s got a good grip on my wrists. Thanks to the cuffs, I can’t use my hands. I do dig my heels in. If he thinks I’m going to go easily, he’s wrong.

Officer Burns makes atsking sound that sounds almost… amused. Why the hell is he amused?

What is going on?

“Don’t struggle, baby. You’ll like me a lot more if you don’t struggle.”

The words don’t make sense. But that tone… I’ve heard that cajoling tone before. Five years ago, in an unfamiliar bedroom, another man thought he could grab me and make me do whatever he wanted.

“I hate you,” I whisper. In my hazy mind, I’m not sure if I’m talking to Officer Burns—or Carter. It doesn’t matter. I’m not even sure I said it out loud anyway.

Though I’m almost positive he does say, “You’re going to love me,” before he shoves me inside of the cop car.

After that, the door slams and everything goes dark.

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