8
Ispend the morning surfing the news channels looking for a story about a man found in Regents Park. There’s nothing mentioned. He’ll be another John Doe till they identify him, or his wife goes looking for him.
I’m uneasy and edgy as I step into the station, paranoia eating away at my skin like fire ants, feeling invisible stares and hearing unspoken whispers. I am grateful when I get into my car and go on patrol, milling the day away on petty jobs, breaking up a few would-be fights and overseeing traffic violations.
It’s lunchtime by the time I get a few minutes to myself. I pull out my burner phone, staring at it for a long while. I know I should stay quiet. I know saying anything could be incriminating, but she deserves to know. Iwanther to know.
My heart kicks a little harder when she picks up. “Hello?”
I attempt to remain professional. “Hi, Amy, it’s officer Rossi.”
“Hi, Joe.”
I can’t help the smile that forces its way across my face. I like that she uses my name. I clear my throat and wipe the smile from my face, trying to think instead of how it felt to be inside my wife this morning. “I just wanted to let you know that Derek isn’t going to bother you anymore. You’re safe.”
“Did you… hurt him?” Her voice stutters a little.
“We had a conversation.” That part is true.
“Thank you so much. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“It’s part of the job.” It’s not. Not stalking a man for days and rendering him unconscious, leaving him for dead. But she doesn’t have to know any of that.
“I wish there was some way I could thank you.”
“It’s not necessary, really.”
“Can I take you out for a drink?”
“No, really, it’s not a problem.” I force my mind on the feel of my wife’s wet pussy and not the way Amy touched my hand at the coffee shop and how soft her skin felt.
“Please?” She whines a little, like my girls do when they want something desperately and are trying to melt my resolve.
“Amy…”
“Please?”
I sigh. What’s the harm in seeing her one last time? “Okay, my shift ends at five.”
“Great.” She sounds excited, and my heart flutters in my chest. She gives me a time and an address.
When I hang up, I pick up my other phone and stare at it for a minute before I call Annie.
“Hey.” She sounds almost cheerful when she picks up.
“Hey.” I sigh, and I know she already knows what I’m going to say.
“How late?”
“I’ll be home by seven to put the girls to bed, and maybe you and I can watch a movie or something?”
“That sounds nice.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me. I’ve disappointed her too many times before.
“I’ll be home by seven,” I reiterate.
“Okay, be safe.” She hangs up. I try to remember when the last time was we told each other we loved one another. There was a time I’d tell her every day and mean it. I still love her, it’s just a little jaded, but it’s there. I know it is. I’ll make sure to tell her tonight.
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