Page 105 of My Girl
“Can I have Officer Gaines’s info?” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Sorry,” I say. “I know that’s weird. But can I?”
Ned’s lips pull down. “Why?”
“I need to know where he is.” I tap my lips and choose words he’ll sympathize with: “So I can feel safe.”
“Of course.”
He sends me a text with Gaines’s contact information attached. I click the file. The address opens to the map app, giving me automatic directions to where Crave lives. I know exactly where he is now.
Ifhe’s still there.
“What was he doing at your apartment anyway?” Ned asks.
I could tell Ned something close to the truth—that we were fucking—and Ned wouldn’t fault me for it. He’s too respectful of my independence for that. But there’s another half-truth that will give me the best advantage.
“He was following me,” I whisper.
For a while, we’re both silent. It’s strange that Crave had worked for Ned for years, and Ned never suspected him of anything evil.
I did. Iknewthere was something wrong with Officer Gaines. I never trusted him. I just had no idea how much was wrong, or that Ilikedthat wrongness when it came from Crave.
Ned doesn’t suspect anything evil about me either.
“Why don’t you ever let me see your cock?” I blurt. It’s out of the blue, but I don’t care right now.
Ned blushes, glancing down at his waistband. “What are you talking about?”
“We had sex for months, but it was always you going down on me.” I shrug. “I just want to know why.”
“It’s all about you,” he says cautiously. “With everything you do for me, it should be your pleasure. You deserve it.”
I tilt my head to the side. That she-comes-first habit made me think he was my masked killer at one point. It seems so obviously wrong now. Crave doesn’t give a shit about my orgasms, nor do I care about his.
“You trust everyone, don’t you?” I ask.
He gives me a lopsided grin. “You always have to believe in people,” he says. “Otherwise, what are we living for?”
I laugh. It’s insane how warm-hearted he is. His life has been one big pile of roses and rainbows.
Ned laughs too.
I gesture around. “The place looks good.”
He rubs his forehead. “It does. We’re still considering hosting the anniversary party here next year.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Crap.”
“What?”
“Do you have any ibuprofen? My head is killing me.”
I open up my purse and find a small container of pills. Next to it, there’s the label-less water bottle.
Maybe the poison was never meant for me.
Maybe it was another one of my father’s gifts.
Maybe he always believed in me.
I hand Ned the pills container and the bottle. He pops three pills, then downs the entire bottle, his face twisting in a grimace as he finishes the drink.
