Save Me from Dangerous Men (Nikki Griffin #1)(49)

“I’m sorry,” Zoe said. She’d been crying. Her long black hair hadn’t been straightened and it was springy with curls. “I don’t have anyone else to talk to. I shouldn’t have left like that the other week. I was having a good time.”

Since she had brought it up, I was curious. “How did he know you were here?”

Zoe looked surprised. “My phone, of course. He has me keep the location-sharing turned on so he knows where I am.”

Her answer made me dislike cell phones even more than I already did. “He doesn’t seem to trust you much.”

“He’s had girlfriends go behind his back, cheat on him. He likes to know where I am.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“I live at his house, he takes care of me. My kids, too. Luis is good to them. You know how hard it is to find a man like that?” She ran a hand through her hair, pulling distractedly at a curl. “If he ever got sick of me, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Can I ask you a question? Has he touched you before?”

“Touched me?”

I looked at her. “You know what I mean.”

She looked away. “He takes care of me.”

“There are other people out there, you know. Who take care of you. Without the other stuff. And along the way you get better at taking care of yourself.”

She laughed. “For you, maybe, sure. You talk good, you’re beautiful, read all these books, probably went to college. Me? I’m a high school dropout with two kids. Luis gets mad sometimes, sure, but all men do. It’s not his fault.”

“Are you safe around him? Has he threatened you?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“What did he come in to apologize for the other day? With the flowers.”

She looked at the rows of books. “Nothing. He just overreacted about something and felt bad. It was my fault, really. I should know what gets him mad.”

“I could talk to him,” I suggested quietly.

She was surprised. “You? Talk to Luis?”

“I could explain that it might be better if he gave you some space.”

“Where would I go?”

“I could help you with that.”

She ran a hand through her hair again, like the very idea made her anxious. I saw her fingers untwist another curl, saw it bounce back into shape. “He wouldn’t listen.”

“If I talk to him he’ll listen.”

“He doesn’t listen to anyone. Why you?”

I put a light hand against her knee to emphasize. “Luis would listen to me because I’d make him feel.”

“Feel?”

I wanted her to understand. “I’d explain things so that he would feel the same things he’s made you feel. And then he’d get it.”

Zoe laughed. “Feelings … I don’t think so. He doesn’t go for the sentimental stuff.”

I didn’t laugh. “Neither do I.”

“You don’t know him,” she said again. “You’ve already been too good to me. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” She looked around uneasily. “I should get back. Thanks for listening. Sometimes I just want someone to talk to so badly.”

“You don’t have to leave,” I told her. “You can stay a bit.”

“I don’t want to get in trouble,” she said.

I watched Zoe hurry out, knowing she was right. It was all well and good for me to tell her to stay. I didn’t have to worry about what she’d come home to. Her form seemed to blur, to become Karen Li, to become Samantha, Marlene, all the women I had known over the years, everyone I had tried to help. I watched her walk out of the bookstore. Hating myself for wondering if she’d ever walk back in.



* * *



I rode up through the Berkeley campus, passing the empty football stadium, the wide flagstone plaza and enormous whale sculpture that marked the Lawrence Hall of Science. The road steepened as I worked my way into the hills, and I throttled up to match the grade. I rode through brown hills and viridian scrub spilling thousands of feet down, an immense terrain of hiking trails and untouched land, until I spotted Charles’s Honda Civic parked in a small dirt turnoff. One of the many scenic viewpoints that jutted off from the narrow road. Charles sat on a bench at the overlook. A little puff of smoke rose from his cigarillo and dispersed into harsh blue sky. I sat down next to him. “Never figured you for a hiker.”

He nodded at me. “Who said anything about hiking? I just enjoy a good bench.”

We sat quietly. For mid-October it was a hot day. A hawk wheeled around on the thermals. We both watched it. Charles finished his cigarillo, stubbed it out against the ground. “You said this fellow Gunn originally came to you because he didn’t trust the big security firms?”

“Right.”

Charles shook his head. “That doesn’t add up. Those places wouldn’t be in business two weeks if they weren’t totally discreet.”

I gave him a look. “You brought me all the way up here to tell me that? Come on, Charles. Clients bullshit. Horses eat apples. What else is new? I took the job.”

Charles took a brass cigarette case and a gold Zippo lighter from his pocket. He lit another cigarillo and puffed the tip into an orange glow. “It was the money that stuck in my mind—the funding. Why lie about that? The logical lie is to say they had money if they didn’t—project stability. But why lie about not having the funding if it had already gone through? Where’s the benefit in that?”