Page 124 of Beautifully Wounded

“I guess you got lucky.” He chuckles.

“I guess you did, since I had my eyes closed. I could have shot you in the head.”

At my words, his shoulders slump as his hand falls from his chest, his eyes appearing almost disbelieving. “You had your eyes closed?”

“Yes.” I nod. “I thought you were him.”

Lowering himself back to the tiled floor, Ringo rests his forearm on the bath’s ledge as he studies me.

“Him, as in the police officer you know?”

“Yes.” I nod.

“You know he wouldn’t hurt you, right? He would have been here thinking you were kidnapped.”

“I was kidnapped.” I point out and I can tell by the way his long stubble shifts that he’s fighting a grin.

“True.”

“He’s not a nice man,” I say, and his gaze hardens.

“After what I heard happened out in the courtyard, I’d have to agree. Is that what you’re referring to?”

I shake my head. “No… I… He…”

“Angel. You know you can tell me.”

Lowering my chin to rest on the tops of my knees, I sigh. “When I told the police what happened on my birthday, they kept me in the interview room for hours. Then, Officer Allen walked in. I didn’t know who he was at first, and it didn’t even click when he said his surname, but then he made it clear that he wasn’t there to help me at all.”

Ringo shifts, lowering his chin to rest on top of his arm, bringing us to eye level. “How so?”

I hate even thinking about that day. I remember how my faith in law enforcement was so abruptly torn from me with a few simple words.

“He told me that I shouldn’t lie to get attention, and when I went to argue that I wasn’t lying, he told me that if I proceeded with the rape allegations against his nephew and his nephew’s friends, that he can’t guarantee the safety of my sisters.” A shudder runs up my spine as his face looms in the forefront of my mind, my gaze falling from Ringo’s face as I continue. “He asked me to imagine them going through the same thing I was alleging, and to consider if it was really worth it. Then he slid the paper across the desk and asked if I was going to sign the statement or not… So, I stood up and left and I heard him laughing as he tore it up, and called me a whore.”

“His name should be on the list, too.” Ringo hisses, and I nod. “Angel, eyes up.” And like they always do, my eyes obey, locking onto his. “This prick’s nephew is Donny Allen, right?”

“How… How do you remember the name?”

He grins. “Your list is stored up here now.” He taps his temple. “So yeah, I remember the names of Daniel Stone, Craig McRoe, MichaelBerry, Tim Beck, Darnel Rivers, and, lastly, Donny Allen. And those names will stay there until I’ve killed each and every one of them, which now includes Officer fucking Allen.”

“You can’t kill a cop.” I argue, but he scoffs, shifting back and standing.

“I’ve killed cops before, Angel, and this motherfucker will meet the same fate.” He reaches out, offering me his hand. “Come on. Time for me to face the music.”

“What? Why?” I ask, letting his large hand grip mine and help me to stand.

“Wendy told my Prez about the cops showing them a picture of you, calling you Abbey Delany.”

I stiffen, and when Ringo notices, he sighs and cups my cheek. “Don’t fret, Angel. I just need to be honest with Smitty. It’ll be alright.”

Even though he seems to believe that, I remember clearly what Jols told me, and how he may very wellnotbe alright. Even so, Ringo leaves me with no time to think about it a moment longer before he’s leading me from the bathroom and out into his motel room.

“About fucking time,” Smitty barks, shifting forward impatiently on the couch to rest his elbows on his thighs, and in the light filtering in from the window, the grey specks in his hair and beard seem to stand out even more than usual. For some reason, I thought a little grey hair would make a man less scary.

I was wrong.

“You have my undivided attention now,” Ringo mutters, dropping down to sit on the end of his bed, dragging me down next to him as he weaves our fingers together.

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