City of the Lost Read Free

noise of rushing water would cover our discussion.
    Cover a gunshot, too?
    No, the gun was only a prop. To let him know this was going to be a serious conversation.
    I waited by the foot of the bridge. He came by right on schedule. Walking. He only jogged where people could see him. I waited until I could hear the buzz and crash from his music. Then I stepped out into his path.
    “Casey?” He blinked and tugged at the earbuds, letting them fall, dangling, as he stared at me. “You look…”
    “Like I got the shit beat out of me?”
    “It’s not that bad.”
    “True. The bruises have healed. There are only ten stitches on my face. Oh, and this spot, where they had to shave my head to cut into my skull and relieve the bleeding.” I turned to show him. “Plus a few teeth that will need to be replaced after my jaw’s fully healed. My nose isn’t straight, but they tell me plastic surgery will fix that. They also say I might walk without the limp if I work really, really hard at it.”
    He listened, nodding, an overly concerned expression on his face, as if I were an elderly aunt detailing my medical woes.
    When I finished, he said, “You’ll heal, then. That’s good.”
    “Good?” I stepped toward him. “I almost
died
, Blaine. I had to drop out of police college. I’m told I’ll never be a cop. That I’ll never move fast enough. I might never
think
fast enough.”
    Another long pause. Then, “I’m sorry this happened to you, Casey. I gave you a chance to run.”
    “No, I let
you
run. You did, and you never even called for help.”
    “That’s not how Iremember it.” He pulled himself up straight, ducking my gaze.
    “No?” I said. “Does this refresh your memory?”
    I took the gun from my pocket.
    I’d envisioned this encounter so many ways. All those nights, lying in a hospital bed, fantasizing about it, I’d realized I didn’t want him to break down and beg forgiveness too quickly. I wanted to have to pull the gun. I wanted to see his expression. I wanted him to feel what I’d felt in that alley.
    Now I pointed the gun at him, and he blinked. That was it. A blink. Then his lips twitched, as if he was going to laugh. I think if he had, I’d have pulled that trigger. But he rubbed his mouth instead and said, “You’re not going to shoot me with your training weapon, Casey. You’re smarter than that.”
    “Did I mention I had to drop out? This
isn’t
my training weapon. Now, I want you to think hard, Blaine. Think back to that night, and tell me again that you let me run.”
    “Oh, I get it.” He eased back. “You want me to confess on some hidden tape so you can—”
    I yanked off my jacket. It wasn’t easy. My left arm was still in a cast and my shoulder blazed with the simple act of tugging off clothing. But I got it off, and I threw it at him.
    “Check for a recorder. Pat me down if you want. I’m not taping this. It’s for me. I want to hear you tell the truth, and I want to hear you apologize.”
    “Well, then you’re going to have to pull that trigger, because I don’t have anything to apologize for. We ran and you must have doubled back.”
    “For what?” I roared. “What in
fuck
would I double back for?”
    “Then they must have caught you. You were too slow—”
    “I did not run! You know I didn’t. I grabbed him, and you were supposed to pick up the gun he dropped, but you ran. Like a fucking coward, you ran and you didn’t look back, and I nearly died, and you never even called the goddamned hospital to see if I was okay.”
    “You
are
okay. Look at you. Up and about, waving a gun in my face. Well, actually, I’m not sure I’d call that okay. I think you need help. I always did. You’re messed up, Casey. I bet a shrink would say you have a death wish.”
    I went still. “What?”
    He shifted forward, as if he’d just remembered the missing answer in a final exam. “You have a death wish, Casey. What normal girl wants to be a cop? Does that martial arts