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BEN FROWNED AT ME, which was odd. Ben isn’t a frowny guy. I noticed his hands kept clenching and unclenching, too.
He was nervous. No, he was terrified. His gaze kept drifting back to my car, trunk and fender riddled with bullet holes, glass missing from the rear window. I hadn’t looked closely earlier. I didn’t want to look now.
“Let’s go for that walk,” I said. We headed for the golf course, and I caught him up. I told him everything up through my slinking escape. We got back to his apartment at the same time my story brought me back to his apartment.
“You have to go to the cops,” he said near his front steps.
“I can’t. It’ll get back to Hauser, and he’ll hurt my parents.”
Ben nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. Like in movies.” Ben believes in stories.
I caught my nerve and said, “So... I need to stay with you.”
“I thought you were good with your parents now.”
“I am. Kinda. But Dad would want to go to the police, even knowing the danger. He wouldn’t believe Hauser was a threat, and then....” I choked up. I remembered how scared Trina had looked in Hauser’s grips, and I thought of it being my mom.
Ben grimaced. “Maybe your dad is right.”
I thought about the cops who had been in my apartment after Cass’s first visit. They hadn’t seemed any more heroic than I was. They had seemed like bored workers angrily interacting with customers, just like the nasty lady at the tag agency. Cracking inappropriate jokes and trashing other people’s stuff...
“I’m sure the cops would want to know about this, Ben. And I’m sure they wouldn’t help.”
“Then what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Cass said to wait for a call—”
“You’re still talking to Cass?!”
“Ben...” I searched for the words. “I want to finish the job.”
“What?”
“I want to rescue her. Cass’s sister. I don’t want to leave her there.”
“You’re not a hero, man. This is not a game.”
“I know,” I said. “I don’t finish games. I want to finish this.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. I need some time to figure things out. And I’m going to need Cass, one way or another. So I can’t go home. So I need a place to stay.”
He looked at me for a long time, weighing. He never weighed. He always said yes and paid for it later. Now he couldn’t decide if he could help me.
I sighed. “Listen, I know Lisa won’t like this—”
He barked a laugh so loud I jumped. “Lisa won’t like it at all,” he said.
“If that’s what you’re worried about—”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye. “You’re asking me to take part in a felony, Dave. I’m not just risking my girlfriend and my lease. I’m risking my job. My reputation at church. My freedom. My life, by the sound of it...”
Every word hit me like a slap to the face. I hadn’t thought of him at all.
“Ben, I’m sorry—”
“No.” He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. This is the closest I’ve ever stood to living in a story.” His eyes shone with a manic glint. “It’s a lot scarier than I imagined in a lot of ways I didn’t expect.”
“That part, yes,” I said. “It’s lonely, too, because nobody around you is part of it.”
His gaze came back to me, and the glint faded. “I’ll be part of it, Dave. Let’s rescue the damsel in distress. What do you need first?”
“Sleep,” I said. “Tonight was the scariest moment of my life, and I feel like I’ve been beaten to death. I need some sleep and some food.”
“That much I can do. I’ll go on upstairs and sort this out with Lisa. Call your parents and let them know you’re here, or they’ll worry.” He went halfway up the stairs, then turned back. “But don’t say anything to get them killed. Be sneaky.”
Sneaky. Right.
I knew he was just thinking in story structures, worrying about foreshadowing from our earlier conversation. I’ll tell you now, my parents never ended up in mortal peril.
I wish I’d had that assurance back then.
I didn’t know what to say to them. I didn’t know how to tell them I was safe while I was scared for my life. And still making things worse. I couldn’t guess what was coming next, and it hurt too much to share that with them.
In the end, I sent Mom a text that said, “Staying at Ben’s tonight.” Then, after a lot more reflection, I added a couple heart emojis. She sent a thumbs up and a bunch of hearts back.
That would do.
Right around then, the apartment door opened upstairs. Lisa came out in a huff. I straightened up respectfully and nodded politely as she came down the stairs. “Lisa.” I said it like an old man would say, “Good evening.”
She glared back at me and said, “Dave,” like a warrior swearing at an enemy. I stepped aside, and she brushed past.
Poor Ben. He was a better friend than I deserved.
I went upstairs to get some rest.