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”I look at them every night,” I said, looking at her face so I could avoid looking at my arm. ”Because it's easy for me to get lost in the minutiae of the day, it's easy for me to forget that these are real people. It reminds me that I need to find out who their killer is before they get anyone else.”
”But why are those the pictures that you have? Why not pictures with their families?”
”It's a reminder,” I said. ”Of the stakes. Of what happens if I fail. I could look at their social media or whatever, but these are like, documents. These people's legal lives. I don't know, it's stupid, but it reminds me that they're more than just a story. I know it's twisted, but looking at those pictures reminds me that they were real. That they mattered. And that I need to find their killer.”
Sofia was silent, her eyes still fixed on the wound on my arm. I knew that it was going to take a lot more than just a simple cut on my arm to convince her that I was telling the truth. But I had to try.
”You can ask–”
”You don't like blood?”
”I can't even watch a horror movie,” I said.
She glared at me. ”But he strangles people,” she said. ”You…I mean, it isn’t bloody.”
I nodded. ”That’s true, but the clean up is. And he’s not afraid to get dirty. Trust me, you don’t want to see what he does to these bodies. Plus there is the fighting back. None of these people go quietly.”
She stared at me for a few seconds as my mind raced, trying to think of a way to convince her that what I was saying was the truth. I tried to think of any justifications, anything that might make her believe me, but I could think of nothing.
When I met her gaze again, though, she was smiling.
Sofia let out a small laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. ”Seriously? The big tough gang leader is afraid of blood?” she said.
I smiled weakly. ”Believe it or not, it's the truth.”
She reached out and traced a finger along the cut on my arm. ”I'm sorry,” she said softly. ”I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that.”
”It's okay,” I said, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. ”I get it. I'm not exactly the most trustworthy guy out there.”
Sofia looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. ”I don't know,” she said hesitantly. ”I feel like I can trust you.”
I felt a jolt of surprise. ”Really?”
She nodded. ”Despite everything, I feel safe with you. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.”
I smiled. ”I'll take it as a good thing. Sorry we kidnapped you.”
”An apology and everything? I'm starting to believe you're a big softie.”
I grinned. ”Don't ruin my reputation now.”
Sofia laughed, and I felt a sudden surge of something in my chest that I couldn't quite identify. It was a nice feeling.
”No promises. I need leverage too,” she said. ”Where's your first aid kit? Let me take care of that for you.”
”Really?”
”Yeah,” she replied. ”You said you didn't like blood, so...let me help you.”
I nodded in agreement, thankful that she was willing to help me out. I watched as she stood up from the bed and made her way over to my dresser, opening drawers until she found my first aid kit. She brought it back to me and sat down beside me, carefully cleaning and bandaging the cut on my arm. Neither one of us said anything while she did this. I needed to process what had just happened and I thought she did as well.
”You might want to look away,” she said.
”Well ahead of you there,” I replied, staring at the window behind her. I really hadn't managed to look at my arm at all since I'd sliced it open.
I winced as she applied pressure to the wound, but I didn't object. It was nice to have her take care of me for once, instead of the other way around.
As she finished up, she looked up at me and said, ”Okay. That’s pretty well bandaged now. You shouldn’t see more blood, I don’t think, but I’m not exactly a nurse.”
