Leave Her Hanging: A Noir Thriller

Chapter Thirty-Six

It was sometime afternoon on Thursday when I woke again. Stephanie lay naked on her stomach to my right, breathing slowly and happily. It’d been hot so we’d kicked the duvet off the bed. I spent a couple of minutes just watching her, listening to the soft sounds she made. She was beautiful. I wanted to lie there forever, forget about everything. But I needed to piss more.

It took me five minutes to get to my feet. If I kept my good hand pressed against my side, I could nearly stand completely upright. My glass-bitten feet stung with every step, but at least they’d scabbed over and I wasn’t tracking blood through Stephanie’s carpet. I managed to make it to the bathroom without screaming in pain and waking her up.

After I’d pissed I got a good look at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t pretty. My clothes were still piled in the bathroom, so I set about the task of putting them on without a rib popping out. Getting my pants back on was the worst. I couldn’t do standing very well, but bending over was worse. I finally managed it by sitting on the lid of the toilet seat and wriggling about like a dog covered in fleas.

When I got back to the bedroom, Stephanie was still asleep. I thought about getting back into bed with her, but I wasn’t tired anymore. Besides, lying down would give me time to think. Time to think about what I’d seen down in that studio, what I’d nearly done, what’d happened afterwards. Time to think about how I felt about Stephanie, and whether I was betraying Ella, how she was only dead a week and a half and here I was screwing some girl I’d only known a few days, a girl who worked for the people I wanted to hurt, a girl who made me want to stop this stupid suicidal hunt, turn everything I knew over to the cops, and let Ella go, but how could I let Ella go, I loved her, that’s what I kept telling myself, but then what was this feeling I had for Stephanie? No, I sure as hell didn’t want to lie down and think. So I limped back out to the kitchen, stuck my mouth under the tap until I’d drunk my fill, and eased myself down into the couch.

Stephanie’s satchel was lying on the floor next to me, with her sketchbook sticking out of it. I cast a look towards the bedroom, but she was still asleep. She wouldn’t mind if I took another peek. I pulled the sketchbook out with my good hand and opened it up on my lap.

The pictures were fantastic. They all had a surreal quality to them, strange and primal and beautiful all at the same time. This was what she should be doing, not taking her clothes off on camera. I wondered if I could convince her to go to university, do a BA. She must have enough cash to manage living costs at least. Or if she didn’t want to go to uni, maybe she could work on her art in another way, go freelance or something. Maybe both of us could get out of this city and make a new start somewhere else. There wasn’t anything left for me here. When Malcolm had jumped me I’d lost any chance at finding out what happened to Ella. A couple of days ago that wouldn’t’ve stopped me; I’d have kept going after them until they nailed my tongue to a wall. But after last night….

I sighed to myself. I guess I wasn’t so eager to die anymore.

I flicked through her sketches one by one until I reached the end, then I leaned over to slip the book back into her satchel. The flap had fallen shut, so I tugged it open again. Something small, black, and rectangular dropped to the carpet.

My mind fought as long as it could, but I couldn’t pretend forever that I didn’t know it was. I clutched my side, bent over, and picked up the USB drive. A thin scratch ran along the black plastic casing. It was mine.

“Spade.”

I looked up. Stephanie was standing in the bedroom doorway, a sheet wrapped around her small body. Her eyes were begging me to be calm, that she could explain. I wasn’t having any of it.

“How’d you get this?” I held up the thumb drive.

She took a step towards me. “Spade—”

“Malcolm took this off me.” I grabbed my ribs and lurched to my feet. “So what the hell are you doing with it?”

“He didn’t take it from you.”

“Don’t lie to me!” My shout split the quiet of the apartment. A damp heat was bubbling inside me.

She froze in the middle of the lounge, her back stiffening. “I’m not lying, little boy. You didn’t have it when you got your arse kicked. I’d already taken it.”

An image flashed through my mind, of her hugging me from behind in that cafe. The hint of a feeling as she reached into my pocket and took the USB drive. I clutched the drive hard, feeling the corners dig into my scraped palm.

“Why?” I asked

She came closer. “Sit down, you’re going to kill yourself standing—”

“Why?!”

“I don’t know why!” she screamed back. “I was scared.”

I scoffed and turned away. I needed to get out of here.

“What?” She came forward and grabbed my t-shirt. “You think I’m not scared by all this? I’m fucking terrified. This has been my life for three years. And you come in, stomping around with more anger than sense, threatening to destroy all that.”

I pushed her away. “You’re one of them. You always have been.”

“I’m not one of anyone. I’m just me. I wanted to protect you.”

“No. You wanted to protect them.”

“I wanted to protect everyone. You can’t see what you’re doing. Do you really think Ella would want you getting the shit kicked out of you on some crazy crusade?”

I turned on her, and something in my face was enough to make her take a step back. “Don’t talk about her. Not a word.”

“Bringing down Malcolm and the others won’t bring her back. And it won’t make you feel better.”

“It’s not about making me feel better. It’s about justice.”

She shook her head. “It’s about revenge.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Don’t do this.” She reached out for me again. The sheet fell away. She was naked underneath. “This will destroy you. Tell the police. I’ll come with you, I’ll tell them what I know.”

Her touch was soft, her eyes dark and pleading. I’d never seen her this vulnerable. I almost believed her.

I pulled my hand away before she could take the USB drive. “No. It’s too late for that now. I can’t trust you.”

She held my gaze a few more seconds. Then her jaw tightened and her eyes turned to stone. “Fine. Get out of my house, little boy.”

I tucked the USB drive in my pocket and brushed past her. Stalking away and looking menacing is tough when you’re clutching your ribs and stopping every few steps to rest. She made no move to help me. Somehow she looked deadlier while standing naked in the middle of the lounge than Malcolm Barker ever could.

I wriggled into my shoes and slung my bag over my shoulder. Some part of me was telling me to stop, think about this, don’t get hasty. But it was the side of myself that wanted to draw her back into my arms and kiss the hardness from her face. I couldn’t trust that part of myself any more than I could trust her. I had my hand on the door handle before she spoke again.

“Is this really worth it?” she said, her voice softer now.

I glanced back at her, my resolve nearly crumbling. Then I remembered the sounds she’d made this morning as I kissed her lips, her neck, her shoulder. The moans when I was inside her. They’d sounded like honey at the time. Now they rang false in my head, the fake moans of a professional porn actress. How could I have fallen for them so easy?

“Yes,” I said. “Stay out of my way from now on. You play me again, I’m coming for you too.”

She was silent as I walked out the door.

~~~

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