Page 79 of Aperture

“Theo, this is Sophia,” I tell him.

“Sophia, Theo,” I introduce them.

Theo steps in front of me and starts talking to her, making her laugh within seconds. I don’t intervene, thinking that maybe she will be good for him. I suspect a relationship is secretly what Theo wants; although for some reason, he would never admit it. Regardless, any thoughts I have about potentially hooking up with her are over.

I’m drinking one more beer and talking to my buddies when Theo and Sophia walk up, holding hands, both clearly drunk. I can’t help but smile. Fucking Theo…the guy just has a way with people.

“Hey,” Sophia says to someone behind the bar. Take our picture.

She hands her phone to a guy and we pose. Some of the guys are puffing on cigars and holding their beers out. After he takes the picture he says, “One more,” as Sophia walks out of the shot. I throw my arm around Theo and we all smile for the picture. Then the guy lowers the phone. His face comes into view. I am immediately transported from my memory to the present.

I grab my phone and keys and run out of the station. I am just about to open my car door when I hear a noise behind me and feel a sharp pain in my neck as an electrical current flows through my body. My body convulses and everything goes black as I hit the ground.

◆◆◆

I don’t even remember the trip to the police station. I pull up and park wildly in the first visitors spot I can find. I don’t even register yanking my door open and running inside. A pleasant looking elderly woman sits at the desk in front of a computer. She looks at me with a warm smile but I don’t have time to exchange pleasantries.

“Detective Hudson,” I manage to say, breathlessly.

“Can I help you, Miss?” she asks, not listening to the words I am saying.

“Yes. Please get Detective Hudson. It’s important.”

“Hang on, dear,” she says, and walks at a snail's pace through a door that leads to the station. Not like this is life or death anything.

I’m leaning and jumping up trying to see into a small window when she finally returns.

“Detective Hudson is not here,” she tells me. “I’m told he left a few minutes ago.”

“Fuck!” I scream.

She places her hand on her chest. “Excuse me?”

“Nevermind!” I yell over my shoulder on the way out.

Wyatt still isn’t answering his phone, so I drive like a maniac all the way home since that’s where he was planning on going after work.

I don’t see his car when I pull into my driveway, but I do see that my front door is ajar. I don’t remember setting the alarm in my haste to go to Sarah’s house for answers. I must be temporarily insane because all I can think of is that Wyatt is inside, waiting for me and I run into the house.

“Wyatt! Wyatt! Are you here?” The house is silent. Too silent. I turn in a circle and see Milo, slumped in his dog bed. “Milo!”

I run over to him and put my head on his chest, listening for his breathing. His chest rises and falls slowly. Why isn’t he waking up?

Suddenly, my senses are on full alert. My skin prickles and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I recognize this feeling as the same one I’ve been having for months now.

I’m not alone.

“He’s going to be fine, ‘Millipede,’” a familiar voice says from behind me.

He’s on me before I can even make a move, grabbing the back of my hair and slamming my head against my counter. The pain is the most excruciating thing I’ve ever felt. Sharp needles stab at my temple and eyes while the back of my head pounds, mimicking the beat of my heart. The smell of blood floods my nostrils as it pours from my head and down my face. Nausea threatens my stomach.

I fall to my knees and try to crawl away. I’m trying to focus on what Wyatt taught me about self-defense, but my mind is too foggy. I crawl a foot or two before a thick, heavy boot makes contact with my stomach. I try to will my body to fight, but it’s no use. Everything is getting dim as I’m picked up and thrown over his shoulder and carried away.

I’m dropped into the backseat of a truck with a heavy thud. As much as I try to look around at my surroundings, the blow to my head keeps me from being able to focus on anything. He shifts the idling truck into gear and then takes off. The movement of the vehicle adds to the spinning sensation in my head and the nausea increases. I curl up in the fetal position and try to go to sleep, hoping when I wake up this will all have been a horrible nightmare.

Chapter 35

The ground is cold where it meets my cheek. I can barely make out the drip, drip, drip of a leaky faucet. Or maybe it’s the sound of the blood dripping from my head onto the cold cement floor.