Down the Darkest Street (33 page)
“The office looks nice,” she said, stalling. “Clean.”
“Yeah,” Pete said. “I’ve had a lot of time on my hands. I can hop around and organize with the best of them.”
He thought better of even trying to laugh a bit. His body heat was higher than normal. He’d start sweating soon. He was nervous.
“I can’t talk to you, Pete,” Emily said. “Ever again. I just wanted to be here, in person, to tell you that. I realize that just running away and leaving you that letter—that was immature. And even with everything that’s happened since…and even though I have more than enough of an excuse to never talk to you again…I, well, I felt like I needed to do this. To come close this chapter in person.”
“OK.”
“OK?”
“I don’t blame you,” Pete said. “I’m surprised you’re even here. I wish I’d known. There’s a lot I want to say. But yeah, I don’t blame you at all, Em.”
“Please don’t call me that,” she said.
“OK.”
“I was left for dead, Pete,” she said. “Left for dead by some sociopath who thankfully wasn’t as good at it as he thought. He kept me in his trunk—while he was at my house pretending to be a cop. He pulled me off the road and put me in his trunk. I could hear you and Rick and I knew I was going to die. Can you imagine what that felt like? And when I came to, in a hospital room, surrounded by strangers and my fuckhead of a husband—when I asked where you were? They tell me you were out getting lit while I was who-knows-where. You’d been holed up in some shitty motel drinking yourself to death, with no idea where I was, or where this killer was. You were gone, Pete. You didn’t help find me. You left. You disappeared. You showed up too late.”
The tears started streaming down her face but she refused to acknowledge them. She pressed on.
“Don’t ever call me. Don’t ever visit me. Don’t even think of me. Don’t ever try to contact me through our friends,” she said, her teeth gritted. Pete had never seen her like this. Sure, he’d seen her upset, but never like this. Never fueled by rage. Hate, even.
She stood up.
“We loved each other once,” she said. “And I thought we could again and that was…that was stupid. I was being stupid. Stupid for thinking we could just be friends. I realize that now. I’m not innocent. I made mistakes, too. With you and us. And I get you have a problem. But it’s not my problem anymore. You’re not my problem anymore. And I hope you stay alive as you continue to do stupid things to yourself—because you think you’re the smartest person in the room and…”
“You’re right,” Pete said. “OK? You’re right. Saying I’m sorry will never be enough. You have every right to hate me.”
Emily opened her mouth as if to respond but no words materialized.
Pete fell back into the chair. He sagged. She stood over him. The anger was gone. She wiped the tears away with a quick motion, as if she were trying to do it fast enough for Pete not to notice.
She wasn’t looking at him anymore, but past him. “Take care of yourself.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Pete said. He saw her eyebrows pop up and her eyes come into focus, as if she were just now realizing he was in the room, too. “You never have. I’ve made mistakes, but don’t use my fuck-ups to whitewash your own shitty behavior. Goodbye, Emily.”
She looked stunned but then turned around and walked out of the office without another word. He didn’t have the chance to see her full reaction to his parting shot. That was fine. His eyes followed her down the aisle and past the front door.
The phone rang. He picked it up.
“Fernandez Investigations,” he said.
He grabbed the yellow notepad and pen that were resting on the left side of his small desk and began to jot something down.
“Slow down,” Pete said. “Your husband did what?”
He wrote down a phone number. He checked his watch. There was a meeting near FIU in about an hour. He’d see if Jack was going.
“Ma’am,” he said, interrupting her. “Can we touch base in a few hours? I can meet you. OK, great.”
He jotted down her address and hung up the phone. He looked at it, resting on its base. The red message light was blinking. He’d missed a call. Probably another client. Another case he’d have to work on a gimp leg. He smiled.
THE END
Alex Segura is a novelist and comic book writer. He is the author of the Pete Fernandez novels SILENT CITY and DOWN THE DARKEST STREET, both available from Polis Books. He has also written a number of comic books, including the best-selling and critically acclaimed
ARCHIE MEETS KISS
storyline, the “Occupy Riverdale” story and the upcoming
ARCHIE MEETS RAMONES
. He lives in New York with his wife. He is a Miami native. Visit him online at
www.AlexSegura.com
and @Alex_Segura. He is currently at work on the next Pete Fernandez novel, DANGEROUS ENDS.
The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in an entirely fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Alex Segura
Cover and jacket design by 2Faced Design
Interior designed and formatted by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs
ISBN 978-1-943818-09-9
Library of Congress Control Number: forthcoming
First hardcover publication April 2016 by
Polis Books
, LLC
1201 Hudson Street, #211S
Hoboken, NJ 07030
Table of Contents
