My son grins. “Her long-term memory is working. Dang. Too bad.”
Quinn punches his arm weakly.
“We need to get your statement for the police report,” Cliff says, turning serious. “I can handle it. But it can wait if you’re having trouble recalling the events of the attack. We want you to get better and not add to your stress.”
“Detective Angela De Luca is going to handle your case personally,” I add.
Cliff’s brow creases. “De Luca? Are you sure? She’s a senior homicide detective. This is trespassing and battery. Serious, but not her area.”
“She’s doing me a favor. I called her to put in the request.”
Cliff whistles. “Okay. Glad to hear it. We would’ve had good people on Quinn’s case anyway, but having De Luca is as good as Chief Holt handling it himself.”
“Unfortunately, we won’t know much of anything until tomorrow,” I say. “Detective De Luca won’t interrogate the suspect until then. She’s also going to work with our team at Bennett Security to find out how the guy got into the DA building. I spoke to Max, and he passed on a message from Lana. She’s going to come see you as soon as possible. Is there anything else you need right now?”
Quinn avoids eye contact with me. “No. Thanks, Rex.”
A ball of frustration and unease gathers in my throat. And I can’t help wondering what else of the evening is fuzzy in her mind. Does she remember the kiss?
If she doesn’t remember, do I tell her?
Cliff snaps his fingers. “Wait, Lark said something about bringing you ice cream? Also, she made me promise to get her in here to see you ASAP. I’ll go get her from the waiting room.” He jumps up, heading for the door. Then he returns and kisses Quinn gently on the cheek. “Really relieved you’re okay, Q. We were worried.”
He leaves, and Quinn and I are alone. Just the two of us and everything that’s going unsaid.
13
Cliff leaves, and the guilt on Rex’s face speaks volumes. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
Yeah, me too.
Every part of me hurts, inside and out. I can’t take much more today. I close my eyes and settle into the pillow. “You can go if you want.”
“I don’t want to go. Unless you’d rather I did?”
No, I think immediately. Because even now, I’d rather be near him. “I guess you can stay.”
I hear his footsteps as he crosses the room. He picks up my hand like I’m fragile enough to break, cradling it between both of his. “What do you remember after we got back to your office this afternoon?” he asks.
“Not sure,” I hedge.
The attack really is fuzzy, like I told them. I wish I could say I don’t remember what happened before that in my office. But I do. Every mortifying moment of it, including when Rex apologized profusely for kissing me. Forwantingme.
Would it be better if I pretend not to remember? Will he be relieved? We can both go forward from this and try to act like it never happened.
For a while, we watch one another. Maybe to see who will crack first.
“You need to know,” he says. “I kissed you in your office.”
Of course he decided to tell me. Because he’s just that upstanding and honorable. At least, when he’s not making out with me against my desk. I’m not sure if his confession makes me feel better or worse.
“Pretty sure I kissed you first.”
“So you do remember.”
“Yep.”
“You know I’m the one who escalated things.”