Page 69 of Savage Don

“Why do they keep calling you?” I ask, pushing the phone back against my ear.

“I think it’s because I was one of the first to see the body. You know, before the crime scene was contaminated by everyone else.”

“God, are they forcing you to describe what you saw, over and over again?”

“Yeah… it sucks.”

“Just ignore them,” I tell her, repeating advice I’ve gotten a thousand times before. “You don’t owe them anything.”

“I want to help if I can.” Fuck, Janice is making me feel like a demon. She’s doing what any normal, good-hearted person would.

“Take care of yourself first,” I order.

“I’ll try. I’m just happy that you’re alright. It will be a relief to tell the police that you’re safe. Although, they might want to talk to you.”

“I don’t really want to talk to the cops.”

“Sorry, I already gave them your number. I’m sure they tried calling you.”

Fuck. This throws another wrench into this whole mess. Now the cops might be after me too…

Still, I’m not mad at Janice. How could I be? She’s just an innocent dove who got too close to a dark raven. Her pain is my fault.

“I’ll check my messages,” I assure her, remaining outwardly calm. “Everything will be alright. You just need to get some rest. Watch a movie or something to take your mind off of that shit. Alright?”

“Alright,” Janice sniffs. “I’ll be better now that I know you’re fine.”

“I’m better than fine,” I lie. “I’m great, and so are you. See you next week.”

The words hardly leave my mouth before I wish I could shove them back in. Shit. I don’t know when I’ll be able to go back to school. Not for a while, probably.

“See you next week,” Janice quietly responds. “Don’t be a stranger now. I know how anti-social you can be, but I’d appreciate it if your phone wasn’t on airplane mode whenever I tried to call.” She laughs, but I can sense how much truth there is in her plea.

“I’ll try to keep my line open as much as possible,” I tell her, knowing that the second we hang up, I’m going back on airplane mode. The last thing I need is a cop calling me while I’m at Ray Byrne’s house.

But that doesn’t stop the guilt.

“You better.”

“Take care of yourself, babe,” I smile.

That smile is quickly wiped off of my face, though, when I hear a door open somewhere up ahead.

Could it be Ray?

It has to be. The guards never come inside.

“Only if you promise to take care of yourself, too.”

“Promise.”

“See you next week then?”

I’m done with lying, but I’m not about to worry her any more than I already have. So, I just avoid the question.

“Bye, babe. Sleep well.”

“You too.”