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And for that reason, that wholeheartedly selfish reason, I began praying that it wasn’t Jaye. I prayed it was Mae who was hurt. And even though I was ashamed to even think it, I let the question loose. “Who is it?”
I already knew the answer before he even uttered a word. I knew from the sullen tone of his voice. “Jayela, Boston. And it’s bad. She’s…”
There was a choked noise from the other end of the line.
My blood ran cold.
“She’s what?” I yelled. “Tell me!”
My fingers clenched around the phone so tightly my knuckles ached.
“She’s dead.”
The room spun around me in dizzying flashes of light until I squeezed my eyes closed. “No!”
“I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t reply. I cancelled the call and hauled myself out of bed, yanking on jeans and a T-shirt as I ran down the stairs of my townhouse. At the door, I shoved my feet in a pair of Converse, and at the last moment, grabbed my badge from the entryway table.
Jayela and Mae’s place was only a few miles from mine, both of us on the outskirts of Providence in more affordable housing than the center, where all the really big residences were. I fought to keep my focus on driving. Foot on the gas. Turn the wheel. Stop at red lights. I forced my attention to all those things I normally did automatically. And when that didn’t fully occupy a mind that wanted to scream in agony, I brought my focus inward.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Eyes forward.
Don’t think.
The swarm of cop cars was expected but still out of place, and I pulled in so haphazardly one tire ended up on the sidewalk.
Jayela would have given me shit for that.
Blindly, I stumbled out of the car toward the lobby of her apartment building. I couldn’t take in their faces, but the officers stationed at the door stepped aside once they saw me coming, so I must have known them. The elevator to her apartment was always slow, so I took the stairs two at a time, my heavy footstep echoing around the empty stairwell until I burst out onto Jayela’s floor.
More people. Officers. Civilians. I passed them all in a blur until a hand reached out and grabbed me.
“Boston! Wait, what’s going on?”
I looked down at the small woman and then at the taller man beside her. I took me a second to realize I knew them. Tori and Will, Mae’s best friends. My friends, too.
Fear turned Tori’s eyes wide, and her fingers trembled around my arm. She looked at me like civilians often did, searching for reassurance that everything was going to be okay.
I couldn’t give her that.
I shook her off and pushed my way inside the apartment.
“Boston…” The officer who stood in the middle of Jayela’s neat living room didn’t fit. He wasn’t one of the people we hung out with, drinking and playing stupid card games until the early hours of the morning around the low coffee table. He was the sort of friend we said hi to at the station, then didn’t really think about until the next time we ran into him.
“Where?” I demanded.
He bit his lip. “Bedroom. But wait, I don’t think—”
A scream cut him off.
I didn’t think. I just pounded down the hall and burst into Jayela’s bedroom, stopping dead in the doorway.
My knees buckled. Bile rose in my throat, threatening to choke me. I almost wished it would because I would have welcomed the chance to pass out.
I’d seen dead bodies many a time. It was a staple of my job, especially in an area like this, where rich met poor and crime was high.
