Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
So he was immediately ruled out.
Christopher was pissed, but I wasn’t surprised. How do you take down the face of New York City? How do you get him to pay for his crimes when everyone covers for him all the time? He had too much leverage and too much power over far too many people.
Christopher called in sick for me, saying I had a nasty case of the flu. I was grateful he didn’t give them the truth, because if Calloway knew, it would be bad news.
I was in the hospital for three days before they released me. I was good as new, with the exception of my foot. Sometimes it hurt to walk on it, but only slightly. I knew it would get better as time went by. It was just a matter of being patient.
Christopher and I hadn’t talked much over the past few days. He was too angry to say a single word. I could tell he was about to explode at any moment, and then his words would rain down on me like fire.
The door to the apartment had been fixed, and the hallway was as good as new. One of the neighbors moved out after they heard about the attack, obviously too afraid to live anywhere near me.
Not that I blamed them.
It felt good to be home again, but it also didn’t feel like home anymore. Hank had sat on one of the couches and hid all our knives under the sink. Just the fact that he was ever there made it seem less cozy.
Christopher grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat on the couch, looking just as angry as he did three days earlier.
“Thanks for taking care of me…” There were no words to express my gratitude. He took time off work to stay at the hospital with me. When he asked if he could call Calloway, I said no. And he’d respected my wishes.
He drank his beer and said nothing.
I sat on the other couch, knowing the conversation was coming. We had to talk about this. It was obvious Christopher was working up to it, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “The cops aren’t going to do anything about this because they’re absolutely worthless. So, we need to do something.”
“I’m out of ideas,” I whispered. “I’ve taken him on countless times in the past. I know I can hold my own in a fight—”
“You’re missing the point, Rome. You shouldn’t have to live like this.” He slammed his beer down, making the table shake with force.
“I know…”
“No woman should have to feel like prey every single day of her life. How can the justice system fail you like this?”
“It’s not the justice system’s fault. It’s Hank’s.”
“Same difference,” he snapped. “The guy owns all the cops in this city. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
“I told you, Christopher.”
He shook his head and looked at the ground. “Unbelievable…”
“I know.” I felt terrible for putting him through this, for stressing him out with worry over me. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize, Rome,” he whispered. “It’s not your fault.”
I was still sorry anyway. I was sorry I took Hank’s help on the street that afternoon. I was sorry I got Christopher mixed up in this, making him so upset that he wanted to break everything inside the apartment. Believe me, if I could’ve made Hank go away, I would’ve. But this was just a game to him. He would keep playing until he won.
“I think we should tell Calloway.” He interlocked his fingers, his head bowed toward the floor.
“What?” Calloway was the last person we should involve. “I’m not seeing him anymore, Christopher.”
“I know you aren’t. But I think he could help us.”
“Help us how?” By murdering Hank? I could do that just fine on my own.
“Calloway is powerful. He’s done more for this city than everyone else combined. His rehabilitation program has put more ex-cons to work and kept them out of jail than any other federal program. Every judge, lawyer, and city official knows exactly who he is. If it’s Calloway’s word against Hank’s, I think Calloway stands a fair chance. And even if he doesn’t, Hank would be afraid of him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s huge. His arms are the size of my head.”
I wouldn’t admit to anyone that Calloway made me feel safe. Whenever I stayed at his place, I felt untouchable. “I’m not bringing him into this. He’s not my boyfriend anymore. I’m sorry that you’re involved with this at all. I can just move out—”
“Shut up, Rome,” he snapped. “I’m not trying to hand you off to someone else because I can’t handle it. I just think getting him involved would help. He might have an approach we aren’t considering. This guy knows a lot of people—including those from the underworld.”
If I told Calloway what was going on, he would explode. He would destroy everything he built by doing something stupid. I wouldn’t be surprised if he grabbed my things and forced me to move in with him, like a bear dragging his cub back to the den. “No.”