Page 52 of Choke

He’s still begging me to run when the cops run into the room, three of them. They look around; they see the guy on the ground, barely alive. They see Claire on her knees, sobbing, bleeding.

They see me, completely untouched, the only damage on my hands, which are swollen, cut, and covered in blood that’s not my own.

Fuck.

I register the shit storm too late. It’s too late to run. Too late to calm down. Too late to apologize.

“ON THE GROUND, NOW!” Each of them screams.

Claire turns, crying harder.

I hold her stare as they force me down, painfully pulling my arms behind me and cuffing me. They don’t need to be so rough; I’m not fighting.

I don’t have any fight left in me.

Animalistic

Lex

Present Day

I must be out of my mind.

We walk into the arena, Rosie’s arm slipping through mine. There is a lightness to her as she bounces through the crowded entrance. I, however, feel like I am walking the plank and hovering above a dangerous plunge into dark waters below. I woke up the other morning feeling foggy. Despite having slept for 13 hours, I felt incredibly sluggish. The ringing in my ears and the storm cloud in my brain made it take me a couple of hours to notice the misplaced paper items on my nightstand. Officer Calloway’s business card was gone, replaced with two tickets to a charity hockey game in town this weekend. Tonight, right now, I am walking into the arena for the game.

Out of my goddamned mind.

I didn’t even need to check the teams playing when I saw them. I called Rosie right away—she is my most reckless friend—and asked her what I should do with the tickets. She squealed with delight and demanded we go.

“Lex! This event is a huge deal; those seats are next to the bench. There is a huge party after that, and it will be so much fun!” She sounds like a child as she carries on.

A shiver runs down my spine—part fear, part intrigue.How the fuck did he get into my apartment?I had double-checked the lock before I fell asleep. Rosie leads us to a concession stand, and as wewait, I fidget back and forth. I shouldn’t be here. I should have tossed the tickets, changed the locks, and started shopping for a new condo.

But I didn’t.

I won’t.

That’s what fucks with me the most.

I love the way my heart skitters at the thought of him — of what he’s capable of.

She turns to say something, stopping when she sees how I fidget.

I’ve been caught.

My stomach clenches, heat creeping up my neck. If she noticed it, others probably did, too. I shift, force my feet apart, feign nonchalance, but I can feel her eyes studying me—seeing too much.

“I’m fine,” I lie, voice steady. “Just… it’s been a weird couple of months.”

She nods slowly, stepping up to the counter. “Right, like the hot cop changing your locks after someone broke into your place and…nothing was taken?” She gives me a look. “I feel like we’re missing a piece of this puzzle.”

I force a laugh because I can’t tell her the truth.

I knew it was him. I knew he had come back. I knew he had been there before I even looked around my apartment. Before I even saw the tickets, he left for me.

Instead, I reply, “The cop was cute.”

“Sure. Sure.” She’s handing cash to the kid working in exchange for two huge beers.

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