Page 119 of The Guy Next Door

“What?” I ask.

“Your face. It’s still all red on the sides.”

“It’s fine. It was only tape. At least I’m still alive. And you’re still alive. Those are the only things that matter.”

But judging by his apprehensive expression, I suspect he knows better.

Since now I know Mike isn’t here.

“I’m so sorry, Zane,” he says, not for the first time.

If anyone else said that to me after what I just found out, I’d tell them to go fuck themselves, but I know Leif. Can see how much he cares. How much he wishes he could make this better.

But nothing can.

A tear escapes my eye.

Fuck.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“You don’t have to be.”

“Let’s not talk about it now. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

He nods.

I glance around uneasily at all the traffic and sit in the back of the ambulance, then rest my head against his shoulder.

The front door of the house opens, and Detective Roth steps out.

We already spoke to her briefly. She and Detective Berkley arrived during all the commotion. I could see the guilt in her expression straight away, but she kept things professional. Didn’t get into our past.

She approaches the ambulance, and I’m kind of wishing we didn’t have to have this conversation. Not now.

“Hi again, Zane. Do you want me to say you told me so, or would you rather be the one to say it?”

“You kind of already took it from me.”

She smirks, but for less than a second. “I’m sorry about Mike.”

My chin quivers as I fight back the tears. “Did you get anything from him about that?”

She bites her lip and glances around. She can’t share details about the case with me, but she knows she fucking owes me.

“Zane, he’s saying you framed him for this. So we’ll have to wait and see how long that holds up. Berkley did get a warrant to search his home. That’s where he is now, and they discovereda room in his basement. A room where we believe he may have kept…people. But other than that, we’re still trying to sort through this mess.”

That’s where he kept Mike. That’s where he planned to keep me.

I nod. “I hope you’ll keep me posted. If you need to talk to Dman, I found him. He still remembers that note, like the one Leif got.”

She glances between us. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve both been through tonight. I hope you know there are mental-health options for this kind of trauma.”

“Please don’t give us a fucking mental-health lecture right now. We already got it from two cops.”

“Three,” Leif interjects.

“I’ll definitely keep you both posted,” she says, “though at this level, I’m sure it won’t take long for the media to get a hold of any developments.”

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