She shoves past Black Pants and into her house, blocking her doorway with her tiny frame. He holds a hand out to her, but she backs out of his reach.
“I got this. I’ll be down in a minute.” He motions over his shoulder to the two officers. They take this as their cue to leave and eye me as they walk down the steps.
My paranoia suggests that Brighton and Black Pants’ interaction is not a one-off. They know each other.
“Derrick, you can leave now,” she says, tears flowing down her face.
I don’t know who this guy is, but she’s uncomfortable, and I want to be close by if she needs me. She glances at me from the corner of her eye, but Black Pants doesn’t take his gaze from her.
He offers his hand and takes a step toward her. “Let me help you. We can go over the accusations—”
She moves out of his reach, headed for me. “I don’t want your help. I have nothing to explain.” She wraps her arms around herself as he reaches for her, gripping the hem of her shirt.
She yanks free and stiffens.
“Things don’t look good. I can help you,” he whispers. He drops his head, closing his eyes, unaware I’m watching their interaction. He digs in his back pocket and pulls out a wallet. He extends his hand, presenting a business card.
“I’m not interested.” She takes the card and flicks it, wiping the tears from her cheeks. The three of us watch as it flips through the air, landing on her doorstep.
He slowly turns to face me, realizing I’m beside them. He looks deflated, but once our eyes meet, his jaw tightens, his eyes flame to life, and his nostrils flare. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”
Brighton darts out of the doorway, grabbing my hand as I go to follow him. “You don’t need to. You don’t know anything.”
I squeeze her hand and try to convey that everything will be okay. Her eyes grow large, but it’s obvious she understands and lets me pull away.
When I reach the sidewalk, I meet up with Black Pants beside an unmarked car. He has his back toward me, his arms crossed over his chest.
As I get closer, he turns.
“Detective Derrick Mercer.” I expect him to extend a hand and introduce himself properly, but I get the once over as his eyes travel from my head to my toes. He sneers but makes sure to keep his back facing Brighton. “Can she hear us?”
I glance over his shoulder, finding her at the top step, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she watches us. “No.”
“She’s in danger.”
“From who?” My heart skips a beat, and I take a step closer to him, unsure if I heard him correctly.
He waves for me to follow him, and I don’t hesitate. We make our way to one of the squad cars. He leans over the top of the open passenger door and holds up his fingers. “Three doctors. One suspect.” He waits for me to comprehend. “Looks like there’s one at the bridge too, but we can’t confirm if it’s related.”
“Does she know?”
“We mentioned it. Told her we need her to take extra precautions. Then you showed up.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. I fight to keep my eyes trained on him. I don’t want to look at her, make her worry. “What does this have to do with her?”
“We’re not sure yet, but we have our suspicions about who is behind this.” He gives a cockeyed grin to someone as they pass but continues muttering out of the side of his mouth. “We need more information, but she’s stubborn and won’t listen.”
“And you want me to what?”
He slams a fist against the roof of the squad car. “I’m not blind. I saw how she reacted to you.” He sets his jaw, clears his throat, and sniffs. “Watch yourself.” He pokes a finger into my chest, and I misstep backward, catching my balance too late. I trip over the curb, my arms and legs splaying in every direction.
“What the hell?” Brighton yells as she rushes down the steps. Her voice draws the attention of numerous officers, and they all hurry over to us to see what’s going on. She kneels beside me, pulling me to my feet.
Derrick is slow to come to my aid. He hovers over us, and I never take my eyes off him. There’s something under the surface I don’t like. And his smirk confirms he feels the same way about me.
Once I’m on my feet, I dust off and charge him. He’s not gonna get away with disrespecting me. Everything happens so fast. I barrel into his chest, wrapping my arms around him as we slam into the hood of a cop car.
I take a step back, popping my knuckles as he rights himself, his shoulders tense as he advances on me. Heavy footfalls come from behind me, but my adrenaline surges through my veins, heightening my senses as I zero in on Detective Dickhead. The world around me blurs and time seems to speed up and slow down as I try to anticipate his next move.