Terri Austin - Diners, Dives & Dead Ends

Seconds later, he was in the kitchen. Shock marred his handsome face as his gaze swept over me. He bent down next to me on the floor, his hands probing my head and torso. “Where’s the bleeding coming from?” His elegant fingers glided over my jaw. I winced.

“It’s not my blood. It’s Steve’s. He’s in the basement.”

“Henry,” he said. His attention to me never wavered.

“I’m on it.”

I heard Henry stomp through the family room.

“Untie me,” I said.

He looked strange, swallowed a few times, and seemed like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. He went to work on the cords. Once I was free, he rubbed my wrists and hands. Tingling was too mild a word for what I felt when the blood started flowing back into my fingers and toes.

“Did you kill him?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

Henry walked into the kitchen. Eyes on Sullivan, he shook his head.

“I bit him. I bit off his ear,” I whispered.

Sullivan smoothed a hand over my hair.

He stayed with me, crouching in front of me, petting me. Then he sat down next to me, pulling me onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, while he murmured into my hair and continued to stroke my head.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I said after a while.

“Do you need help?”

“No,” I snapped.

“Okay. I’ll wait right here for you.”

He helped me up. My muscles were stiff and achy, and I shuffled like a little old woman down the hall.

I turned on the overhead light in the bathroom, realizing for the first time it was fully dark outside. I looked at myself in the mirror and gasped. I looked like Ma’s video game zombie who’d gone on a feeding frenzy. Steve’s dried blood smeared my pale face, and there was a dark bruise covering my jaw.

I bent over the sink and scrubbed at my face with hot water. It floated through my mind that I would need an AIDS test. Probably other STD tests as well. It’s not every day you take a bite out of someone. The thought made me giggle, hysteria started to creep up, but I quickly shook it off. I wiped my hands and face on a blue towel hanging next to the sink, used the toilet, and washed up again.

As I walked out of the bathroom and down the hall, I heard Sullivan and Henry whispering. They stopped talking when I walked into the room. Henry turned and went toward the family room again and Sullivan took both of my hands in his.

“Tell me what you want to do, Rose.”

“I want to go home.”

“About Gunderson.”

“I just want to go home.”

He let go of my hands and rubbed up and down my arms. “I know, sweetheart. But what do you want me to do with Steve?”

I shook my head. I still didn’t understand the question. All I wanted to do was fall onto my futon and pull the covers over my head.

“I can make his body disappear. Is that what you want, Rose?”

“What? What are you talking about?” I understood the words but I didn’t comprehend their meaning.

“Steve’s dead.”

Wordlessly, I shook my head.

He pulled me close, wrapped his arms around my shoulders. “You did the right thing. You were protecting yourself.”

I’d killed a man. I’d pounded his head into the concrete and killed him. I should have felt guilty, horrified. But I felt numb. I survived. I was still standing and Steve was dead.

Sullivan drew back. “I’ll call someone I know on the police force. But listen,” he gave my arms a little squeeze, “you got away from Gunderson, you made it to the kitchen, and you passed out. Do you hear me? You passed out before you called me.”

It finally dawned on me what he was saying. “How long has it been since you got here?”

“Four and a half hours. Now, repeat what I said Rose.”

Had Steve died because of the delay? If I’d called the police instead of Sullivan, would he still be alive?

Sullivan shook me. “Repeat.”

“I passed out in the kitchen before I called you.”

“I told you not to do anything until I got here. Say it, Rose.”

I repeated everything he told me, like a robot.

He led me to a kitchen chair, knelt down, and hugged me while we waited for the police to show up.

Yesterday I felt nothing but anger for this man who used the police and political figures for his own purposes. Now I was relieved he had so many connections.

Grateful he was here.

Two detectives, uniformed officers, and four EMTs arrived.

The paramedics checked my vitals and pronounced that I was in shock. The detectives questioned me briefly as the paramedics bundled me onto a gurney. Sullivan climbed into the back of the ambulance and held my hand the entire way to the hospital.

“Do you want me to call your parents?”

I swallowed and shook my head.

“What about Axton or your friend Roxy?”

“No.” I didn’t want them to see me like this.

“What can I do for you, Rose?”

“Don’t leave me,” I whispered.

It took four days of being questioned by the police, a two night stay in the hospital for observation — my jaw was only bruised, not broken — and three visits with an attorney my dad insisted on, before I finally got back to my life.

I don’t know how Sullivan managed it, but my name stayed out of the news. I watched the coverage from my hospital bed and my name was never mentioned. The helmet-haired reporters said Steve Gunderson had kidnapped an unnamed victim and died during an ensuing altercation.

Altercation. Right.

When my parents visited me in the hospital, my mother was slightly less rigid than usual. We chatted briefly before my father asked to speak to me alone. My mother glared at him, but left the room.

“Did Sullivan have anything to do with this?” he asked, once she was gone.

“No, Dad, absolutely not. In fact, he helped me.”

I saw doubt on his face. He scanned my features, checking to see if I was lying, I guess.

“It’s true. I called him for help. He came to Steve Gunderson’s house and called the police. He even rode to the hospital with me.”

“Where is he then? I haven’t seen him.”

I hadn’t seen him either. He stayed that first night, but when Roxy, Axton, and Eric arrived, Sullivan disappeared faster than a pot brownie around Stoner Joe.

My dad kissed my cheek and left.

When my sister and Allen came to the hospital, they brought flowers and a card that Scotty made. Eventually Jacks sent Allen to get me some ice chips, but really, she just wanted some privacy.

“I’m so sorry for those things I said, Rose.” I could tell by her puffy, red eyes she’d been crying.

“No, Jacks, it’s okay. I love you. You’re the best sister in the world.” I think I was feeling a little loopy from the sedative the nurse had given me.

“I love you, too, Rose, just the way you are. And you’re not a loser.” She laid her head on my stomach and began sobbing.

I patted her hair until I fell asleep.

Ma didn’t let me work for a week. I told her I needed the money, but she insisted it would be a paid sick leave. That was really generous of her.

After I got home from the hospital, Axton bought me a new TV and a DVD player. He christened it with Mars Needs Women —which according to him was a classic. He and Eric stopped by every night for a week and usually brought pizza.

Ma and Ray came in the afternoons and brought real food. Jorge’s wife, Marisol, sent enchiladas.

Roxy came bearing anime DVDs and nail polish. My toes never looked better. And I was hooked on Eden of the East . “Told you,” she said smugly.

Jacks stopped by every morning with a latte and a fresh danish.