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Christopher looked back up at the ceiling and said, “And I might as well go ahead and clear away this landmine before you stumble across it by accident and then feel bad about it.” After a long moment he said, “You’ve noticed my weird food thing. Well…it started thirteen months ago. This was when I was still working the street. I always thought I had good instincts, I thought they’d protect me. Turns out I was wrong.”
He took a deep breath and said, “So, this trick bought me for an hour and took me back to his hotel room. It was right around dinnertime. He had a little cooler in the room, and he offered me a sandwich. No red flags went off. He just seemed so normal, and took one of the sandwiches for himself and started eating it. I thought, why not? I was so hungry, and it was a free meal, why pass it up?”
Christopher fell silent for a long time before beginning again, his voice quiet and level. “To this day, I have no idea what he used to drug me. I couldn’t taste anything odd about that sandwich. Once I was unconscious, the man raped me and beat me almost to death, then left my body in a dumpster, presumably to die. It didn’t quite work out as he’d hoped. I somehow survived. And when I got out of the hospital, I stopped working the streets and went to work for the escort service.”
“Did the police catch him?” My voice was a ragged whisper.
“No. I doubt they looked very hard. I mean, what’s one raped and beaten prostitute?”
“Oh God,” I whispered.
He went on, “That’s when I stopped eating. Food started to freak me out. I’d try to eat something and I’d just start gagging, I couldn’t make myself swallow anything. Eventually, I stumbled upon those crackers by chance, and found that for some reason, I could tolerate them. They don’t trigger my gag reflex, so I can actually swallow them. I don’t know why.”
Christopher sighed and sat up, looking down at me. “So that’s the long, pathetic story of my food phobia. In short, I’m a fucking mess. But I’m managing to survive, managing not to starve myself to death. And for right now…well, for right now that’s all I’m really shooting for.”
I sat up and tried to hug him, totally overcome with emotion, but he stopped me with a raised palm. “Don’t be nice to me right now, Charlie. If you do, I’m just going to start crying. And that’s something I generally avoid at all costs.”
We both lay back down, staring up at the ceiling in the semi-darkness. After a long time like that, Christopher rolled over so he was facing me and slid close and rested his head on my chest. Wordlessly, I put my free arm around him and held him until he fell asleep.
Chapter Fifteen
Lunchtime at Nolan’s was apparently starting to catch on. The next day at work, I’d been going nonstop for a couple hours and was right in the middle of the dining room, juggling an armload of dirty plates, when my cell phone rang. “Want me to get that for you?” Christopher asked.
“Yeah, it might be important. Mrs. Dombruso might need something.”
Christopher fished the phone out of my pocket and showed me Dante’s name on the screen before hitting the speaker phone icon and holding it up to me. “Hi, Dante!” I said cheerfully.
Dante’s weak, shaking voice sent a jolt of panic through me. “Charlie,” he whispered. “My angel. I’m so sorry.”
“Dante, what’s wrong? And why are you apologizing?”
“I’m so sorry I broke up with you, Charlie. I wanted to be with you more than anything. But I thought it was for your own good.” I heard him shift slightly and gasp in pain.
Fear slammed into me so hard that I couldn’t draw a breath. “Dante, what’s happened?”
He spoke slowly, in short, choppy sentences. “I got him. I got the man that killed my family. But he got me, too. He shot me. I’m not gonna survive this.”
“Where are you? Are there people around? Can you get help?” I was vaguely aware of someone taking the dishes from me, and I grabbed the phone from Christopher.
“No one’s here. I’m all alone.” His breathing was becoming labored, and I clutched the phone with both hands. I barely noticed as Christopher reached up and did something to the manacle, releasing it from my wrist. “I have to tell you something. I have to tell you that I love you, Charlie. I need you to know that. I love you so much.”
“I love you too Dante, and I can’t lose you! You have to get help!” My body shook as Christopher hugged me tightly.
“You love me?” His voice was barely a whisper.
