Do Not Disturb(67)

I take a deep breath. I’ve got nothing to lose. He doesn’t know this, but if he doesn’t let me out of this room in the next minute, I’m finished. “I can give you money. Whatever you want.”

He just snorts.

Fine. “You know,” I say, “really, it’s your word against mine. I gingerly touch my face, covered in his wife’s scratch marks. My hand comes away wet with my blood. “I’m the one who’s hurt here. I’ll tell the police you attacked me. You and your nut job wife. Both of you will go to jail.”

Nick doesn’t react to that.

“Just let me go.” I shift on the floor, ready to scramble to my feet if he lets me. “Let me leave now and I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

“If you move again,” he says calmly, “I will put this knife through your eye. Got it, lady?”

“I’ll tell them you threatened me,” I say in a small voice. “You’re doing it right now. You’re threatening me. Who do you think they’ll believe?”

Nick stares at me for a moment, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath. “I saw what you did to Greta,” he hisses at me. “And you tried to kill my wife. If you think I’m ever letting you leave this room except in handcuffs, you’re out of your mind.”

Oh. He knows about the old lady. Damn.

And now I hear the sirens, growing louder by the second. Nick is gripping the knife so hard, his knuckles are white. Just a short time ago, I was the one with a knife, and Rosalie was cowering in front of me. She lunged at me and took me down. But I can take one look at Nick and know that I won’t be able to do the same to him. He will absolutely kill me if I try to get up off the floor.

A few minutes later, the police descend on us. Someone must’ve told them the entire story on the phone, because it seems like they know everything. They handcuff me and read me my rights, even though my face is bleeding and my head is throbbing.

They lead me down the stairs, and outside into the cold. I took my jacket off when I came into the house, but they don’t give me a chance to retrieve it. I suppose I’ve lost the right to a jacket.

As I come out of the house, I see they have jimmied open the trunk of my car. Deputy Scott Dwyer is standing there, right next to the trunk, and when it pops open, his face turns green.

“Oh, Christ,” Scott says. “Where the hell is that ambulance?”

I know what they have discovered in my trunk. I stop walking abruptly, surprising the officer whose hand is on my elbow, leading me to the police car. He stumbles and releases my arm. I sprint in the direction of my car.

No, I won’t be able to get away. But I want to see.

It’s Scott who jumps in front of me, just as another officer grabs me roughly by the arm. I always thought Scott was far too nice to be a cop, but at this moment, his eyes are like ice. He looks like he could strangle me with his bare hands.

“How could you?” he chokes out. “How could you do that to her? You…”

I stare back at him. “Sorry, Scotty. You missed your chance with her.”

His right hand balls into a fist. He wants to hit me. It says a lot about him that he doesn’t do it, even though I’m an easy target with my hands cuffed behind my back. He’s still a wuss. He won’t even do anything when he sees the girl he’s had a crush on for ten years bleeding to death in the trunk of a car.

“Is she breathing?” I ask.

Scott just sneers at me. He nods his head at the officer holding my arm. “Take her away.”

I start to ask again, but I feel my arm being jerked hard enough that my wrist feels like it might snap in two. I know the answer though. Quinn will survive. She’s the lucky one, after all.





Chapter 42


ROSALIE



It feels like the police are with us forever.

Nick carried me downstairs, so I wouldn’t have to deal with being near that woman. Her name, apparently, is Claudia Delaney. She’s the sister of the other woman who was staying here—the one who kissed Nick. I still don’t entirely understand why Claudia Delaney stabbed her sister, but apparently, they found her unconscious and bleeding profusely in the trunk of Claudia’s car. They rushed her to the hospital, but they’re not sure if she’ll survive. I can’t even imagine.

The police spend forever talking to Nick. I can tell he’s trying hard to keep his cool, going over the same story again and again. And he’s really upset about Greta. He went into her room to tell her to call the police, and he found her lying on the ground, a stab wound in her chest. We had both grown very fond of her. Amazingly, she was still breathing when the paramedics arrived. But she was quite old—her chances aren’t great.

Finally the police leave, and thank God, they haven’t hauled my husband away in handcuffs. He sinks into one of the chairs at our dining room table, his face pale. I wheel over to him, afraid to ask him what he’s thinking. After all, we broke up. A few hours ago, we decided our marriage was done. As far as I know, he’s already checked out.

“Nick,” I say.

He lifts his eyes, which are red-rimmed. “Hey.”

“Are you… okay?”

“Yeah, I…” He heaves a sigh. “She almost killed you. I can’t believe it.”