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I flinched with fresh guilt.
He smirked. “Sorry, bad joke.”
“I need to apologise to him. A-Are we done here?”
He nodded. “Sign your statement and you’re free.”
“And no one will go after Aslan?”
“Not tonight. Not unless he does something that warrants our attention.”
I hid my second wince.
Overstaying definitely warrants attention.
Snatching up the pen, I skimmed the typed-up piece of paper printed off from the tape recorder as I’d recounted everything Ethan had done. I’d held nothing back. I’d told Wayne everything, right from Ethan refusing to let me leave the party to drugging me with a mug of Coke and restraining me on Joel’s bed. I even mentioned how he’d let me go afterward with a pat on my butt and a promise to put in a good word with Zara, as if what we’d done was mutually shared and not straight-up rape.
I signed with a flourish, no longer hiding my bleeding pain. For the first time in a month, I had nothing to hide. No need to repeat a useless mantra that I’d be okay if I could just stop thinking about it. I’d spoken about it for the past two hours. I’d relived every moment, and I was still alive, still breathing, still functioning. In fact, I was functioning better than I had in weeks, all because I’d finally moved on.
It’d happened.
It was over.
And I had much more important things to worry about than a rapist who’d already been dealt with.
Aslan...
Where are you?
The pen scratched over the paper as I dated my statement, my concentration turning inward as I sent all my hope and love toward Aslan. I waited for an echo. Some soul-deep echo hinting he’d heard me, just like he claimed he had when I’d screamed for him as Ethan hurt me.
But there was no answering nudge. No sign that we were so connected, we could sense each other over time and space.
We had no magic.
No magic except our everlasting bond and the undying knowledge that we belonged to one another.
Shoving back the signed piece of paper, I looked up.
Wayne hadn’t taken his eyes off me.
I felt mean for being so snappy with him, but I’d meant what I said. I’d do anything it took to keep Aslan here, alive, with me.
With a weary sigh, Wayne took my signed statement and tucked it into the new file that’d been made on me. He didn’t speak for a long moment before finally shifting in the metal chair and pulling out a business card from his trouser pocket. “Here.” Stabbing it into the table, he slid it to me with his finger. “If you don’t want to talk to Jack and Anna, then talk to this woman. She’s very good at her job. Helps all manner of people overcome all manner of things.”
My initial instinct was to refuse as a tiny piece of me cursed him for thinking I was weak. But I balled my hands and scolded that egotistical part of me. I wasn’t weak by accepting his goodwill gesture. I wasn’t weak if I needed to talk to someone.
Nodding once, I snatched the card and slipped it into my bra—the only place I could store it in my little black dress.
His eyebrows rose but he didn’t mention my strange pocket. His steely hazel eyes met mine. “Do you want to tell me anything else about that night? Anything at all?”
Yes, you’ll probably find Ethan at the bottom of the ocean.
If you searched The Fluke, you’ll find Ethan’s blood all over it, regardless that we bleached it down.
If you knew what Aslan did to him, all because I asked him to, you’d deport him to his death without a second thought.
I shook my head. “I’ve said everything you need to hear.”
