by DJ Hunnam
"Finn, why don't you go see if Miss Rosalie needs help setting the table? Tell her to add two more plates," Allie instructed.
"Ah, Mom, but I wanted to show Dante my new Xbox game."
"Don't 'ah, Mom' me."
"You can show me after dinner." I lowered Finn to the ground and ruffled his hair, nodding my head in the direction of the kitchen. As soon as Finn sulked off, Allie ushered us into her living room.
"It is good to see you, Erica. I wish it were under better circumstances."
Erica glanced over her shoulder and I gave her a reassuring smile. I had shot off a quick text to Allie when Erica had gone to grab the thumb drive.
"I appreciate you helping us... I mean, me," Erica stammered.
After taking a seat opposite us, Allie gave Erica a warm smile before directing her question at me. "What's going on? Your text was pretty vague."
Even though I still bristled with anger, I recounted the critical aspects of Erica's story with as much composure as I could muster. Erica sat quietly, interjecting when necessary. Except for a few questions, Allie listened with the attentiveness of a seasoned reporter. When I came to the events of this evening, I laced my fingers through Erica's, since she looked like she was on the verge of crying again.
"Motherfucker," Allie said with a whistle. "He attacked you?"
"Yes," we both said in unison.
"And beat up my friend."
"But why?"
"I have something he wants," Erica said. She rifled through her purse and held up the black thumb drive.
Allie cocked her head to the side and eyed it with curiosity. "What's on that?"
"That's what we need you for. Erica stole it from Brent's office. We're sure there's something incriminating on it," I said.
"Makes sense. Why else would he go to all the trouble to get it back?" Allie replied. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head.
"Right."
After a deep sigh, Allie reached out to take it. "And you want me to look at it with you guys?"
"No," Erica burst out. "Under no circumstances is Dante to see what's on there."
Allie glanced back and forth between the two of us and nodded. "Got it. What about you? Do you want to see what's on it?"
The look of abject terror on Erica's face said it all.
"I think it would be best if you look at it first. Get a feel for what we're dealing with," I said, giving Erica's hand a gentle squeeze.
"Okay. Let's go have some dinner and then I'll take a look. Sound good?"
"Yes, thanks," Erica said with a weak smile.
An hour later, Erica and I were curled up on the couch watching Finn play his racing game. Even after a delicious meal and several glasses of wine, Erica was fidgeting uncontrollably. I placed my hand on her knee.
"Hey, everything is going to be okay."
"I'm not sure I believe that."
"Whatever is on there will not change anything between us. We'll deal with it together."
Erica managed an unconvincing nod. Allie walked in a second later, her lips pursed in a grim line. "Finn, go upstairs and start getting ready for bed."
"Just a second, I need to finish this round."
"Now." The commanding tone Allie used meant business and Finn scurried out. I knew my boss and the look on her face said it all. Something was wrong. With a half-smile directed at Erica, Allie sat across from us. "There's definitely a bunch of stuff on that thumb drive, but the files are all encrypted. I'm going to need to get one of our IT guys on it."
"No. I don't want anyone else involved," Erica said, shaking her head.
"Babe, we have to see what's on there," I said.
"No." She stood up and started pacing, wringing her hands while Allister and I exchanged a look.
"Erica, I know you're scared," Allie said. "But if this guy did something to you, then he's probably done it to other girls. We need to expose this asshole."
Erica stopped and her face dropped, like it was the first time she had considered that possibility. "He's already in jail, it doesn't really matter now."
"The assault charge isn't going to keep him in there for long. He'll come back unless we nail him to the wall," I said. I stood up and went to Erica, who looked like she was on the verge of collapsing. "You know we need to do this."
She swallowed past the tears I knew were choking her. "Okay. But promise me you won't look at what's on there."
"Okay," I replied. "I promise."
***
"So, what have we got?" Allie asked Steve, one of our best IT analysts at the Tribune.
It was Monday afternoon and we were crammed into his tiny cubicle looking over his shoulder. Steve pushed his glasses further up his nose and launched into an explanation of how he'd decrypted the files. It sounded like gibberish to me, but I listened, doing my best to be patient.
"I haven't opened anything yet. Like you asked. It's all JPEGs and AVI files."
"AVI?" I asked.
"Audio Video Interleave. It's a common file format developed by Microsoft for storing both video and audio data," Steve replied.
I wanted to punch something, or better yet, someone. Why hadn't I considered the possibility that the asshole had filmed his attacks?
Steve's eyes shifted from me to Allie and back. I unclenched my fists, trying my best to smile. "Thanks, man. I appreciate you working on it over the weekend."
"No problem. I hope you find what you're looking for."
A chill ran through me. As Allie and I walked to her office in silence, I watched the rain slamming against the windows. It had been cold and rainy for days, the glum weather matching my mood.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that asshole's face. I had imagined my hands wrapped around Brent's throat, slowly squeezing the life from him at least a hundred times since that night. I should have done it while I had the chance.
"All right, load it up," I said, gesturing to her computer.
"What the fuck are you talking about? You need to leave, Dante. I'll take a look and let you know what I find." She leaned against her desk and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Fuck that. I want to see with my own eyes what that fucker did," I said, spinning away from Allie when she reached a hand out to comfort me.
"Listen, I know you're upset. But you promised Erica. Seeing what's on there is not going to make you feel better. And breaking your promise will only make you feel worse."
I scrubbed my hands down my face. I was fucking losing it. I had been since Brent attacked Erica. It felt like centipedes were scurrying in my veins, slowly sucking the oxygen and my sanity, from my brain. Dark visions of Brent's hands on Erica's body had been playing on repeat for days.
"Listen, go home. Have dinner with Erica. I'll call you once I've had a chance to take a thorough look."
"I have too much left to do," I said. The entire day had been a complete waste. Every time I tried to focus on work, all I could think about was that stupid piece of plastic. "Erica's serving at the shelter tonight. She's not even home."
"I don't care how much you have left to do. Get the fuck out of here and get a stiff drink. You need to blow off some steam, or you're going to lose it."
With a grumbled goodbye, I left her office and stomped to mine. I slumped into my chair and stared out the window watching droplets of water run a trail down the glass. There was only one other person who could help me work through this. It was time to break the news to Erica's big brother.
It was well past midnight and Dante still hadn't come home. Rain splattered against the windows and the wind howled its discontent. I was jumpy and exhausted, a scary combination that grew worse each time I glanced at the clock.
All of my phone calls and texts to Dante had gone unanswered. If it had been any other day, I wouldn't have worried, but I knew that Dante's coworker had decrypted the files. Allister had sent me a short text six hours ago to that effect. Luckily, I'd been too preoccupied at the mission to dwell on it much.
But now, hours later, I was woozy with the certainty that something ugly had been found. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand and cursed. I couldn't take it any longer. I unlocked my cell phone and called my brother.
"Hi. I'm sorry to call this late, but have you seen Dante? He hasn't come home yet."
"He hasn't?" I could hear the worry in my brother's voice. "We met for drinks, but we left the bar hours ago."
"Why were you guys at the bar on a Monday night?"
Damian cleared his throat and I heard Janice's muffled voice in the background. "Dante was upset. He needed to get some stuff off his chest. He told me, Erica. He told me everything." I clawed at the comforter and jumped out of bed, pacing the long expanse of Dante's bedroom, my flannel pajamas suddenly stifling. "Are you there?"
"Yes," I managed. The familiar burn of shame I had spent the last year trying to extinguish burst to life.
"Don't be mad at him. He needed to vent."
"I'm not mad," I lied.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Damian almost choked on his words and my eyes welled with tears.
"I don't know. I was so embarrassed after it happened. I didn't want you to think I couldn't take care of myself. I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry about. Do Mom and Dad know?"
"No. I didn't tell anyone except for Jake."
"I wish you would have told me so that I could have helped you through it. And protected you."
No one could have protected me from that monster. Not even my brother. That was the only thing I knew with any certainty anymore. I had been lured in by a wolf in sheep's clothing.
"You couldn't have. I'm the only one to blame."
My brother's melancholic sigh broke my heart. "Ah, Pip, you were twenty-one. What happened to you is not your fault. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," I whispered. Jake had uttered those exact same words more times than I could count over the last year. No matter how many times I had tried to tell myself the same thing, I never believed it.
We said our goodbyes, with the promise that we would talk more tomorrow. I crawled back into bed after trying Dante's cell one more time. After another hour of tossing and turning, I gave up on sleep.
I sat in the dark, waiting for Dante, trying to decide if I was angry or hurt that he had gone behind my back and told my brother. I knew that he was torn up. Even though he tried to hide it, he had been vibrating with nervous energy for the last few days.
No matter what Allie and her team had found, I had decided that I was going to the police with the thumb drive. Like Helen, my silence was starting to hurt more than Brent's assault ever could.
I must have dozed. The sound of the key turning in the lock woke me. Adrenaline roiled in my stomach as I strode forward. Dante slammed the door shut, fraying my fragile nerves, but it was the reek of hard liquor that had me stumbling back a step. Rain glistened on his coat and in his pitch-black hair.
"Where have you been?"
"I went out... got a drink," he slurred. With several unsteady steps, he collapsed onto the leather couch. He rested his head back, shutting out the light streaming from the kitchen.
"Damian said the two of you left the bar hours ago."
Dante pried one eye half open to glare at me. "You've been checking up on me? You're not my fucking keeper, Erica."
"Forgive me for being worried," I said. "And who the hell do you think you are, telling my brother something that was only mine to tell?"
Dante shot to his feet with a menacing growl, startling me back a step. "I told your brother what you couldn't. You've had a year to come clean about all this... shit."
The reproach in his eyes left me reeling for breath. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, poking him in the chest. His eye twitched and he ground his teeth so hard, I could hear it. We were both on the verge of losing it. "You know what? I'm not doing this with you right now. You're drunk."
I rushed to the bedroom, hoping to avoid the confrontation brewing. I was exhausted, he was drunk, and nothing good was going to come from us hashing this out in our current condition.
Before I could get into bed, Dante teetered in.
I lay down with my back to him, hoping he would pass out and leave me alone. He shuffled across the hardwood floors until he stood in front of me. When he ran his fingers into my hair I yanked my head away, even though part of me wanted to give in. With the exception of a few hugs, Dante hadn't touched me since the attack.
"Erica, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's been a crazy few days."
"Don't," I said when he trailed his fingers across my collarbone.
"What's wrong? I want you. I need you," he said, caressing my shoulder.
"Not now, Dante," I hissed, pushing at his implacable chest.
"Come on, just a kiss. Give me one kiss. I need something to erase those images from my brain," he mumbled, nuzzling my neck.
The air rushed from the room and everything slowed to a standstill. I blinked several times, each pass of my eyelids lasting hours. "What did you just say?"
He sat back up, startled by my question, but then his face dropped. Without another word, he rushed to the bathroom and started retching over the toilet bowl. Bile rose up my throat as his words penetrated my shock.
"You looked?" I asked from the doorway of the bathroom, my words choppy and weak. The buzzing in my head was so loud, I couldn't think straight. With a dejected sigh, Dante slumped to the floor. "What did you do?" I asked. He shook his head, refusing to speak. "Tell me!"
"I went back to the office after I left the bar. I was just gonna grab my laptop so that I could do some work from home. I swear." He sat up straighter, pleading for forgiveness with his eyes. I wanted to believe him, but my heart was already crumbling. "Allister was gone." He waved his hand with a wild gesture. "I walked by her office. She never locks it. Silly, silly woman. So, I went in."
With my head in my hands, I slumped against the wall, sinking to the ground beside him. "Oh, Dante, why?" The regret in his eyes was only outweighed by the fear. "What was on there?" He shook his head, stoic in his refusal. "What. Was. On. There?" I screamed.
"Girls," he blurted out, with eyes clenched shut as if he might be able to keep the images out. "So many of them. Some so young. Oh, God, and the stuff they made them do. So twisted. So wrong." His head lolled back and he opened his glazed eyes. "I'm gonna be sick again."
Am I on there? Did he see what I did? The questions bounced around inside my head, nauseating me with all of the possibilities.
"Did you see me?" I asked, kicking Dante's foot. He raised his head from the toilet, the misery etched across his face telling me what I needed to know.
"Yes," he whispered. "Erica, I'm so sorry. I promise it's not what-"
"Shut up," I screamed, pressing my hands over my ears. "I don't want to know." Part of me wanted to demand the truth, but a much larger part was too afraid to know. It would change everything. Ruin every single one of our intimate encounters.
"How could you? There's no coming back from this."
He turned and grabbed for me, mumbling apologies that I ignored. I stood up and pushed out of his cloying hold, watching as he writhed on the ground. I wanted to comfort him, but I couldn't.
"I love you," he called out, when I started to leave. I spun back around, his words almost thawing the ice crystallizing around my heart.
"Don't you dare say that. Not right now," I said, chest heaving.
"I love you."
"I know," I said. "I wish that were enough."
He reared back like I had slapped him. "How can you say that?"
"Because it's the truth. I used to think that love could conquer all. That good triumphs over evil. That the princess always gets her prince. But the real world is a shoddy, fucked-up version of the fairytale. Like you said in Maui, it's not like we were ever going to ride off into the sunset together."
"Erica, I was wrong. Please don't do this."
"Don't m
ake this any harder than it has to be."
I walked to the closet and pulled out my suitcase, packing my few possessions as quickly as I could. Without thinking, I burrowed into Dante's carefully stacked t-shirts, inhaling his masculine scent and committing it to memory. When I walked out, I tried my best to ignore the soft weeping coming from the bathroom.
"What are you doing here?" I asked with my arms crossed over my bare chest. I didn't even bother to hide my annoyance, which was only surpassed by shock at seeing my mother standing in the doorway.
"Jesus, you look like shit. Can I come in?" she asked, with a strained smile.
I considered denying her. We hadn't spoken since the night of the awards ceremony. She had left half a dozen voicemails that ranged from apologetic to indignant. But I'd refused to return her calls.
The words Erica had spoken on the pier came rushing back. Forgiveness had never been my strong suit, but maybe it was time to be a better man. Especially since I needed a little forgiveness extended my way.
I waved my mom in with a bone-weary sigh, ignoring the look of disgust plastered on her face as she took in the current state of my condo. It was a reflection of where I was. There were empty takeout containers and beer bottles strewn across the counter in the kitchen. The sink was full of dirty dishes, and my couch was piled high with blankets and pillows.
I couldn't bear to sleep in the same bed that Erica and I had shared.
"Darius told me what happened with you and Erica. And that you haven't been to work in weeks."
"Why do you care? Aren't you still getting your checks in the mail?" I said with a snide tone that soured her expression.
"Dante, I don't care about that."
"Now, you're just lying, Ma."
She stepped closer, ignoring my taunt. "I'm worried about you."
"It's not a big deal. I decided to take some paid time off." I slumped down onto the couch and thumbed through the channels while she toyed with the strap of her purse.
"I'm not here to bust your balls. I'm here to make sure you're okay. And judging from the way you smell, you ain't."
I didn't care if I stunk. I didn't care that my nappy hair had started to dread. I didn't care that I had lost all motivation to get out of bed in the morning.
