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Jesus Christ.
“What the fuck is this!” I shout.
“Look, I just need the money. At least let me pay him back.”
“She was right,” I mutter under my breath.
“Are you fucking serious? You’re going to listen to her over your own sister? It’s me, Rhys! Who matters more? A piece of pussy or your own blood?”
“What is with you and these ultimatums about Freya? Why do you keep making this aher or mesituation?”
“Because! She keeps driving a wedge between us! If you go back to her, I’m gone, and I’ll never come back. There are plenty of men who are willing to help take care of me. I don’t need you.”
I see the difference now.
“Yeah, you do that.” I chuck her phone against the brick wall, and it breaks into pieces and then she screams at me.
My phone rings, and I look down to see it’s the police department. I’ve been waiting to see if they have found any information on my stolen things. Walking back to my bedroom to take the call and shut the door, I have to move farther into my bathroom to get away from Anna’s screeching.
“This is Rhys,” I bark.
“Hey Rhys, this is Officer Tomlinson. Wanted to know we found a few of your items at a pawn shop. Wanted to see if you could come in and retrieve them this afternoon. We also would like to ask you a few more questions to see if there is any more information you can provide.”
“On my way.”
* * *
“Was one of the items you found a wedding ring?” I ask the officer.
“Ah, yeah. Can you confirm the inscription on the inside?”
I traced my fingers over the engraving a hundred times. “Love is a fire.”
“Yeah, we got it.”
I let my head fall back and let out a shaky laugh. “Thank Christ.” I exhale. I can’t believe it. I don’t care about getting back anything else, but they hand over a box of other items—my power drill, blender, and headphones, plus a couple smaller items. Afterward, I’m led into a small, cramped room with a bunch of computers and a few monitors on the wall.
An officer stands next to me and the evidence technician navigates the files of CCTV recordings. He pulls up a video file and presses play.
“This is the footage we have from the pawn shop where we recovered your possessions.”
Two people enter the frame. The first guy spins around, and he’s got the worst case of coke jaw I’ve ever seen.That guy isn’t snorting lines, he’s snorting whole-ass paragraphs.When the second person turns in the frame, I recognize them immediately, and my stomach drops out.Anna.She’s got a hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses on, but it’s her.
This is why Freya was so wary that night, she probably already suspected Anna staged the theft. I avert my eyes, I can’t watch anymore. Swallowing hard, I pinch my lips shut. My lungs draw in slow, steady breaths, trying to stay calm. I stand behind the data technician while they watch her pawn her own dead mother’s ring.
Mom’s fucking wedding ring. And after I’ve been running myself ragged trying to watch out for her.
“That’s my sister.” I’m not covering for her bullshit. “The one you interviewed that night. That’s her.” My nostrils flare. “She’s an addict,” I explain.
“Do you know where your sister is at the moment?”
“Yeah. But first, she needs rehab. I’ve spent the last week getting her into a sixty-day program. Can I choose to not press charges if she promises to enter a treatment program?”
Not necessarily true, but as soon as I walk out of this station I’m going to be making phone calls. It’s the only chance I have to save her life.
* * *
The first two places I call all but laugh at me. I’m going to need to go out of state. That might be for the best anyway. The more distance she can get from the people here, the better her odds. However, that was my plan when I moved her to Minnesota with me, and look how well that turned out.
