Page 128 of A Dark Fall

A woman. Serious assault and battery. Possible sexual assault. The words are loud and painful, and there’s a sharp ringing noise in my head as though a bomb’s gone off inside it.

Mark nods again. “Well, I sincerely hope for your sake that you know him better than we do.” He looks around my kitchen then reaches into his pocket and brings out his wallet, pulling from it a small white business card. When he tries to hand it to me, I stare at it like I did the envelope, as though it’s dangerous. “Please take it, Alex. Store it in your phone. I need you to know you can call me if you’re ever afraid. If he ever does anything or says anything that makes you feel afraid.”

With uncertain hands, I take Mark’s card and stare at it hard. It has his full name, his rank, direct telephone number, and the address of New Scotland Yard in small, plain lettering. Will I need to use this because I’m afraid of Jake? It’s almost unfathomable. Almost. If I were asked the same question a few hours ago, my answer would have been no with complete certainty. Now?

Now, I know nothing.

“You knew him, didn’t you? You recognized him. At dinner.” I lift my eyes from the card to him.

“I knew the name. We all know his name and what it means, but I’d never seen him in person before. The task force involved with Jake is a separate division, so I had to check afterward that it was the same guy I was looking at.”

They all know his name and what it means? Does he mean the entire Metropolitan police force? I feel sick.

Something horrible pricks at my chest. “Do Rob and Dan know? Did you tell them?” I don’t know why I’m asking this or why it even matters, but them thinking badly about Jake makes me feel cold and ill. More ill.

“No.” He shakes his head. “They think he owns a nightclub. There’s no reason to tell them anything other than that.” He reaches out slowly and puts his hand on my arm to squeeze it gently—a gesture of comfort, I assume. His touch is warm, but not as warm as Jake’s.

“Alex, promise me you’ll call me if you need to. Promise me that if he ever says or does a single thing that makes you feel in the slightest bit afraid, you’ll call me. Promise me that.” His tone is authoritative and forceful, and I find my head nodding in response. “Good. I’m only at the other end of the phone.” He smiles reassuringly. It’s the sort of smile I give my patients when I tell them not to worry about something until the results come back. The kind of smile I also use to tell them it’s treatable.

Then, because I don’t know what else to say to him, I nod and tell him thank you.Thank you.Thank you for coming in here and breaking my heart with some words and a brown envelope.

As soon as he leaves, I bend over the sink and throw up twice. I feel ill. Light-headed and weak as though I might have the flu coming on. I rinse my mouth out and drink two glasses of water, but the nausea doesn’t pass. Neither does the light-headedness. With trembling legs, I move to take a seat at the dining table and stare hard at the envelope.

I’m scared to touch the thing. But I’m also scared to throw it away. Jake’s secrets, which I kept telling myself I could wait to hear when he was ready, are right in front of me.

I realize something then with horrible clarity: I don’t want to know what they are. Maybe I never did. Maybe deep down, I was always afraid of what he was hiding because it might mean the end of us.

The face of a woman, beaten to a pulp, flashes across my mind.What makes you think I let them get away with it?

God, I can’t possibly be considering he would do that. A man I’ve allowed inside my heart, and my body, and my soul. A man I’m deeply in love with. I can’t be considering he’d do that. I’m not. No. He wouldn’t.

I’ve never sensed that in him—not once, not even the night he came to my house furious after my date with Sam. He has a temper, yes, but I’ve never once felt afraid he would hurt me.

I’d never hurt you, Alex. I’m different with you, Alex. I’m better with you, Alex.

My brain is circling and retreating and maneuvering at one hundred miles per hour, but my body is completely and utterly still. With my back straight and my hands flat out in front of me on the table, I keep staring at the godforsaken envelope.

I should be tearing it open, but I’m not ready to know whether I’ve been beguiled by a lying, violent criminal yet.

When I look up at the clock, I see I’ve been sitting here for over an hour. Over an hour of staring blankly into space and trying to hold down vomit. I can’t think about this any more right now; Jake will be here shortly, and I haven’t even started the lasagna.

I stand up from the table, my legs trembling.

I need to cook.

When he texted to say he’d dropped Caleb off and was on his way over, I replied saying only that the door was open. That was an hour ago. I’m terrified. Not of him. I’ve never been afraid of him, and I’m still not. The only thing I’m afraid of is that bloody envelope.

My hands didn’t stop shaking the entire time I prepared dinner, trembling violently as I chopped tomatoes, peeled onions, stirred the pot, and layered the oven dish. Yet my mind was eerily calm. I somehow managed to forget everything else as I focused solely on that one task. The lasagna actually looks good. But then I’ve always been an impressive multitasker.

I’m at the sink and almost jump out of my skin when I feel him behind me, warm, strong arms sliding around me as his mouth nuzzles deep into my neck.

“Shit, sorry, baby. I thought you heard me come in. I knocked first. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

My heart constricts tightly as I take in the full sight of him. He looks the same as he did this morning, except now, his cheeks and nose are slightly red from the sun. He’s smiling at me the same way he did this morning too, with eyes soft and warm and full of love. He’s still so beautiful, and I’m still completely in love with him, and my delusions truly know no bounds if I thought I’d feel any differently upon seeing him now.

When he pulls me into his arms and kisses me deeply, my body responds like it always does, warm need settling under my skin and sending goose bumps down my spine. Though I’m unable to do anything but welcome his mouth on my own, it takes effort to keep my arms by my sides and not wrap them around him.

“Mmm, I missed you today,” he murmurs before pulling back to smile at me.

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