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***
Hugo
I carefully climb down from the roof, with Pamela’s unconscious body flung over the shoulder. My muscles burn from the effort, but the fury boiling inside me is far more intense. The thought of what Raymond tried to do to her makes my blood seethe. She feels so fragile in my arms, like cotton candy that melts in the rain. Delicate. Vulnerable.
I manage to get us back into her apartment, moving quickly through the place until I reach her bedroom. Gently, I place her on the bed, careful not to touch her more than necessary. She wanted space, and I’m going to respect that. Even if it’s slowly killing me. It’s like sitting at a banquet but I can’t eat any of it.
I reach to pull the cover over her, but as soon as the fabric touches her, her eyes flare open and she lets out a blood-curdling scream.
I jerk back, startled. She sits up in bed, her screams piercing the silence of the night, arms flailing, legs kicking wildly. I stand up, my heart pounding in my chest. Only then does she come to her senses, her breathing ragged as she sobs.
“I’m sorry. I thought it was Raymond,” she cries, her voice breaking.
A pinch of pain stabs at my heart at the panic on her face. “He’s dead,” I rasp, trying to hide the anger I feel at the mention of his name. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Pamela nods, her body trembling. “I’m so tired,” she murmurs, her voice fading. “My body feels so drained.”
I clear my throat, trying to regain my composure. “I’ll let you sleep.” I reach into my pocket and place my card on her bedside table. “Call me if you need anything.”
She clutches her heart-shaped pillow to her chest, looking up at me with gratitude in her eyes.I swallow hard, the emotion tightening my throat.
“Do you want me to stay the night? On the couch?”
Pamela shakes her head, still smiling lightly. “I want to be alone right now.”
“Of course,” I nod, hiding the hurt but I can’t blame her. I move toward the door, but can’t help but turn to look at her one last time. “How’s your hand, by the way?”
“Good,” Pamela whispers. “You did a good job, doctor.” She turns to her side, eyes closing when exhaustion takes over.
I leave the apartment, my mind heavy with thoughts of her. This isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning. I want that girl with every single bone in my body. Deep inside of me, my instinct calls out for her and I know it won’t silence until I have her in my bed, legs spread and my child’s blond head coming out of her opening. I shudder from need at the thought, as I step out onto the street.
People have gathered outside, horrified and puzzled at the dead body lying on the concrete. Blood pools around him, sirens filling the air. I hide a smile, lift up the collar of my jacket then catch a whiff. Strawberries and champagne. Her scent rubbed off on the leather. My lids flutter and I throw one last look at the corpse, before I turn around and walk away.
4.
Pamela
The cops came the day after Raymond fell. They questioned me for hours, their eyes sharp and probing. I was terrified I’d let something slip, that the truth would spill out in my panic. But I didn’t, and they ruled Raymond’s death a suicide. The relief was almost paralyzing.
It’s been a week and I haven’t left the apartment. I can’t bring myself to face the world outside these walls. Every sound makes me jump, every shadow feels like it belongs to the ghost of Raymond. My mind is in turmoil, my body constantly on edge.
My only highlight are the gifts that keep appearing in my postbox. They’re all from Hugo. A silk scarf, a box of gourmet chocolates, a book of poetry. He’s been so wonderful to me. I shiver at the thought of my hero, the man who saved me. I think about him day and night, his strong hands, his piercing eyes, the way he killed to protect me.
I glance at the card that came with his latest gift. The card is simple, but it makes my heart race.
Join me for drinks at the Terrace, eight o'clock this evening...if you want.
I hold the card in my trembling hands. The thought of seeing Hugo again fills me with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. I don't know what the evening will bring, but I know I can’t stay hidden forever. And if there's anyone that can make me feel ready to face the world again, it’s Hugo.
I run over to my closet, rummaging through my clothes to find something to wear. My fingers linger over a white dress, light and airy, something that makes me feel pretty. I pull it out and hold it against my body, looking at myself in the mirror. It’s perfect. Hugo’s eyes flash in my mind, and I imagine him looking at me with approval.
I take my time getting ready, because I want to look pretty for him. I want him to see me and know that I’m trying, that I’m not defeated.When I glance at the clock it’s seven-thirty. My heart beats faster, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling in my chest. I hope he likes how I look. I hope he sees me and thinks I’m worth all the trouble he’s gone through for me.
Taking a deep breath, I grab my purse and look around my apartment one last time, trying to muster the courage to leave. For Hugo, I tell myself. For my good doctor.
***
I arrive at the Terrace, a rooftop bar, with twinkling lights and a gentle breeze sweeping through the outdoor seating area.
