Page 71 of Nine

My heart skips a beat and then I shoot up from the bed. The poor girl went down to get ready for her very first photo shoot. A couple hired us for their anniversary. I should have gone with her, but she was so excited that she wanted to go down really early and prepare. She insisted I meet up with her later. I’m a big girl. I can do this. Those were her exact words. Stay calm, I tell myself.

“Honey, listen to me. I need you to come back to the room, okay.”

She ignores me.

“He’s just sitting there looking at little children as they pass.”

“You need to come back to the room, now,” I demand.

She ignores me again. It’s almost as if she can’t even hear me.

“I was just a little girl. He had no right. He can’t get away with it.”

The tone in her voice scares the hell out of me. It’s cold and empty.

“God damn it, Nine. Get your ass back up here, now!” I yell.

I’m hoping that will shake her, but it doesn’t. Instead, the phone goes dead. I reach underneath the mattress and pull out my gun. Nine has no idea I picked this up a few weeks ago, but I feel like I need it. It’s not for me. It’s for her. I wasn’t able to protect and save my brother, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let something happen to my woman. I stuff the gun behind my back, grab my keys, and run for the door. I’m running down the hallway toward Ricky’s restaurant, which is in the same hotel as ours. The place is packed. People are coming in and out. I’m searching around as bodies bump into me. Finally, I spot her. She’s on the other side of the room. I stop and stare. She picks up a serrated knife from a carving station and then she follows a heavy-set man through the exit doors.

“Excuse me,” I say, roughly pushing through more people.

By the time I catch up to where I saw her, she’s out of sight. I run outside and look around. I see her just crossing the street.

“Nine,” I yell.

She doesn’t turn around. I look farther up ahead of her and spot the heavy-set man from the restaurant. He’s headed for a cheap motel and Nine is right behind him. I cross the street just in time to see her climbing stairs. I run over and throw myself up each step as if they would melt away. My heart is thumping, and then I see her again. I try to control my breathing so I can talk to her. She’s standing outside a hotel room door. Her body is up against the wall. Her eyes are red from crying, and from the look on her face, I know nothing good can come from this. She’s holding something behind her back. In my mind, I know it’s the knife. I tell myself to approach her with caution.

“What are you doing, Nine?”

She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she points to the hotel room door.

“He’s in there.”

From behind her back, she pulls out the knife. Shit’s about to get real.

“Baby, you don’t have to do this,” I say.

“Don’t you know what he did to me? Don’t you fucking care?”

She moves closer to his door. I step forward.

“Give me the knife. What do you want? Revenge? Justice?” I ask.

She nods.

I’m afraid that at any minute now the whole police department will be surrounding us.

“Nine, I know how you feel. I know how angry you are, but, baby, it’s not worth it.”

She puts her hand on the doorknob.

“He doesn’t get to do this to another child. I want him dead.”

“How do you know that’s him? It could be someone that looks similar.”

“He came into my room every night. I know that face. It’s him.”

I creep closer. My hands are out where she can see them.

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