One of Those Faces (73)
“Do you want to grab some coffee today?” he asked without pause.
I glanced at the clock above the closet. 3:09 p.m. Iann wouldn’t be back for another couple of hours. “Sure.”
“Can you come to downtown, or is Wicker Park better?”
“I’m downtown, so I can come to you.”
“Okay, great. Let’s meet at that café by the river, from last time,” he said, shuffling papers near the phone. “In twenty minutes?”
“Sure.”
I hadn’t thought about telling Danny anything yet. But the stitches were still prominent, and the dark bruises where Bug had throttled me still stained my neck.
I caught a glimpse of him through the glass door as I swung it open and stepped inside the café, tugging at the scarf around my neck. It was too tight.
Danny smiled when he saw me and stood up, but as his eyes studied me, his expression darkened. He looked at my forehead and my hand.
I avoided his eyes and sat across from him.
He sank back into his seat. “What happened? Are you okay?”
I had pulled at the scarf a little too much, because his eyes settled on my neck and widened.
“Did Iann do this?” he demanded.
My mind tried to wrap around his questions. “No, of course not!” The response really answered the last two.
He didn’t believe me.
“I wanted to tell you in person because I didn’t think there was any way to explain over the phone,” I began. My throat still convulsed when I spoke more than a few words.
He waited, his eyes flickering to my neck.
“My, um, landlord attacked me.” My voice wavered as I imagined his hands on my skin again.
“What?”
I rubbed my hands to keep them from shaking. “He had been filming me in my apartment, and I found out, and . . . he attacked me.” I pressed my good hand against the table edge to steady myself as I recounted the incident. Danny’s hands immediately closed around it.
“God, I had no idea.”
“I think he killed Holly.” I saw Holly’s glassy, piercing eyes. I dared to look at Danny.
His eyes were on me but actually somewhere else. “I’m so sorry,” he said after a moment. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay . . . You’re going to be okay, right?” His hand was a little tighter around mine.
I nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve been through worse.” I actually didn’t feel like that was true anymore.
He furrowed his brow. “You were attacked,” he argued.
“Yes, but I’m alive.”
“Yes, you are.” He squeezed my hand and settled back into his chair.
I inhaled and pulled away from him. “But I killed someone, Danny,” I breathed. It had all happened so quickly that night, but I saw his face as I stabbed him. I felt his blood on my skin every time I closed my eyes.
Danny leaned forward again. “No, not someone. A monster who was trying to kill you, Harper.”
But he wasn’t really a monster, was he? He’d bled like a human. His heart had stopped like a human’s.
“So, that was you,” he said quietly. “One of the reporters mentioned an attempted murder on a woman around Wicker Park in her home, but it didn’t even cross my mind that it could be you. When did this happen?”
“A few days ago.”
“I don’t think anyone knows about the possible connection to those murders yet.”
I stiffened. “Everything I’ve told you has been as a friend. I don’t think the police have entirely tied the two together. You’re not going to say anything, right?”
He shook his head. “Not my story, and you’re not my source.”
I relaxed again.
“You’re not going to stay in that place, right? Do you need help finding an apartment?” From his eyes, I knew what he was really asking.
“No, I can’t go back there,” I began. “I, uh, moved in with Iann.”
He immediately looked away from me. “You’re going through a lot right now. You probably shouldn’t be making any big decisions.”
“Why don’t you like Iann?” I studied his expression.
“I don’t feel any way about him. I don’t even know him.”
I ran my finger along the stitches on my palm. “Why did you assume he did this to me?”
He avoided my eyes. “I know what you’ve been through. I wanted to make sure you weren’t in that type of situation again.”
This time I put my hand on his. “I’m not. Iann’s a great guy. Maybe a little too great, for me.”
He frowned. “Don’t say that. No one is great enough for you.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. To me, something feels off about him.”
“Like what? He’s perfect.”
He grimaced at that. “Nothing, forget I said anything,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just glad you’re getting out of that place. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when it happened.” He stared at me.
“What?”
“No, it’s just . . . I don’t get it.” He furrowed his brow. “I thought they already knew who killed Holly.”