Page 80 of Save the Game

“Sure, come in,” he says, fingers touching my wrist as he scrabbles for my hand. I link our fingers together and squeeze.

Marcos lets them inside, dropping his arm and closing the door behind them. The entry hall is far too small to comfortably fit five people, but none of us know what the protocol is for police officers being in your apartment. Are we supposed to offer them coffee?

“Uhm,” Max starts, clearly struggling with the same conundrum as me, “do you want something to drink?”

“No, that’s all right, thank you,” Officer Hughes says, smiling kindly. He gestures toward the recently-vacated living room. “How about we sit down?”

Max, looking alarmed at being asked to sit down in his own apartment, walks back over to the couch and sits on the edge of his seat. I sit beside him, as close as I can get without sitting directly in his lap. Marcos stands, arms crossed tight over his chest, across the room. Officer Hughes perches on the edge of the coffee table, while his partner takes the chair.

“Uhm,” Max starts again, visibly uncomfortable with the silence. His grip on my right hand is so tight it’s painful, “what’s going on?”

“Would you be more comfortable if we talked in private?” Officer Suarez asks, her voice lovely and almost musical. “Or would you like your friends to stay?”

“Stay,” he answers immediately. “I want them to stay.”

She nods, smiling at him kindly. Both officers have friendly, compassionate faces. My heart beats a little quicker at the thought, and I glance back over at Marcos, who’s staring stonily at the floor.

“No problem,” Officer Hughes says easily. He smiles at Max again, who doesn’t return it. “So, as you might have guessed, we’re here about what happened back in October.”

“Okay,” Max replies. Marcos’ arms tighten visibly, as though he’s trying to hold his chest cavity together.

“We’re here to inform you that an official arrest has been made using the DNA from the rape kit, as well as a witness statement. Theodore Cox will be charged and tried for multiple counts of rape, as well as possession and unlawful distribution of an illegal drug. Robert Cruz is also being charged with distribution, as well as assault.”

“Okay,” Max repeats. My hand is throbbing in pain where he’s gripping me; bringing our linked hands into my lap, I lay the fingers of my other hand on his arm, stroking gently.

“Do you have any questions?” Officer Suarez asks softly.

“No?” He replies, but breaks eye contact with the cops and looks over at Marcos who lets the scowl slip from his face just far enough to appear polite.

“You said ‘charged and tried for rape’—does that mean that Max will be expected to testify?”

“Possibly,” Officer Hughes allows, and then holds up a hand to waylay Marcos. “But, unlikely. As I said, DNA evidence and several eye-witness reports tell the story. And Mr. Kuemper,” here he looks over at Max, “doesn’t remember the night in question. There would be little to gain from asking him to testify.”

“But Theo is being charged, right?” Marcos presses. “He’s going to pay for what he did, right?”

“The state of South Carolina has decided to press criminal charges, yes.” Officer Suarez says carefully.

“Was Max the only… did the DNA match against anyone else?”

The silence following this question is deafening. I can tell neither officer wants to answer and both are trying to find a circuitous way of doing so.

“The state is pursuing three separate rape charges, and two for sexual assault.” Officer Hughes answers, diplomatically. It’s a politically correct way of saying there are multiple victims. I swallow around the sudden lump in my throat.

Marcos chews on his lip but lapses back into thorny silence. Beside me, Max is silent and unmoving, hand cold against mine. I want the cops to leave so I can wrap him up in a blanket and hold him; I want this whole fucking mess to be over with so he can move on with his life.

“So…that’s it?”

I jolt at Max’s voice. I wasn’t expecting him to speak again. He’s glancing between the two officers, voice uncertain.

“For now, yes. You will hear from the prosecution eventually, but for now—that’s it.” Officer Hughes stands, looking down at where Max and I are still seated on the couch. I hope he doesn’t expect us to walk him to the door—I’m not sure Max’s legs could hold him up. He’s shaking like a leaf, body pressed hard against me. It makes me hate them unnecessarily, even though it’s not their fault that their job brought them here.

“If that’s all, I’ll walk you out,” Marcos says rudely. From the look he gives us, I can tell he’s noticed how I’m the only thing holding Max upright. If I were to move, he’d fall.

“That’s all,” Officer Suarez says, nodding politely to Max and I while gesturing for her partner to precede her toward the door. She places a business card gently on the coffee table and waits for Max to meet her eyes. “You can reach out if you think of any more questions.”

Max and I sit in silence as they leave. I crane my neck to watch Marcos at the front door, waiting for the deadbolt to be slid home before speaking. Smoothing my fingertips up and down the inside of his forearm, I bring Max’s eyes to mine.

“Hello, you,” I say, and he smiles.

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