Page 75 of Good Half Gone

My entire body stiffens, the accuracy and offense hitting at the same time.

His arm is slung across the back of the couch, grazing my neck. I lean my head back so it’s resting on his warm skin. My face is already tilted up when he leans over and kisses me. The kiss is very soft and everything I need. I stand up, suddenly emboldened, and walk toward his bedroom. I am not drunk, my emotions are in check, and I want to do this. He hasn’t moved from the couch. I take my clothes off, slowly so he can watch, leaving the pile of fabric where it falls. I wait for him in the doorway.

“Are you sure?” he asks. I have a moment of confusion where I think he’s saidpureinstead ofsure. My Freudian analysis of Jude is playing games with my head.

“I’m sure,” I say.

Afterward we’re lying in his bed, limbs tangled, when I decide to push the issue again. “Leo…” I exhale. “I know this is going to sound crazy.Maybe I am crazy—but this is the only access I’m ever going to have to the truth.”

Why can’t I just say it? I close my eyes. I don’t want him to think that I’m using him.But you are, you know you are.I am attracted to him, but this wasn’t in the plan. I decide to spit it out, just say it.

“I want to speak to Jude.”

He accepts this news with registered shock, immediately tense and sitting up straighter. I feel shame for asking, shame for what we just did. We were both crossing a good number of moral lines.

“Absolutely not. It’s one thing me telling you about him in private; without evidence, you can’t just accuse him of that. This is all speculation from a grieving sister.”

I recoil, feeling diminished by his words. Thespeculationpart of his little speech hits hard. I don’t like the parental tone he’s taking with me. I bite back tears. If I were older, I wouldn’t care, but I am suddenly stung by our age gap.

“Don’t do that,” I say. “Talk to me like that. I’m not your patient.” I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit with my back to him.

“Iris, that’s not what I’m doing.”

I know what he’s saying makes sense, but that pisses me off more. I stare at the wall.

“Piper was kept alive for at least a year after she went missing. We know that for sure because of Cal. What we don’t know is Cal’s paternity.”

“But his biological father could easily be one of those men. The chance that she got pregnant while—” he frowns as he looks for the word “—while they were trafficking her is high.”

“I think it was Jude,” I say. “He’s the one who left Cal on my mother’s doorstep.”

“Where’s your proof?”

“In cell six.”

He flinches.

“All right,” he says slowly. “Even if that is a possibility, I still can’t let you go in there with him. He’s dangerous. You understand that, right? He’s been locked up for a reason. He had a bench trial. Entered a reason by insanity plea. The judge deliberated for four days before he sent him to HOTI. He’s considered to be extremely dangerous, a very cunning, manipulative man.”

“I know he’s fucking dangerous. He killed my sister.”

Leo runs a hand down his face. “What would that accomplish? He’s a psychopath—he won’t tell you the truth, Iris, because that’s what they do—lie.”

“He can’t deny a blood test! If he’s Cal’s father, we know for sure Piper was with him after she was kidnapped by the traffickers. He has to know where she is. You could get that for me…” I’ve shocked him into complete silence. I swallow hard and stare at the bottle of contact solution on his dresser.

“Everything you’re suggesting is unethical. I could lose my license. You could be kicked out of grad school. All of your hard work thrown away for what?”

“For my son,” I say.

We don’t talk as I get dressed. I do the walk of shame, refusing to cry until I’m in the car. This is on me. Instead of sticking to the plan, doing what I came to do, I knowingly entered a situationship with my boss.Stupid, stupid.

It’s raining when I run to my car. His living room window faces the street. I know he can see me. I pause with my hand on the door handle and look up at his window.

For the next few days, I avoid him at work, volunteering to do all the jobs everyone hates so I don’t have to run into him. It’s miserable, and I can’t stop thinking about Leo.

Someone is playing Christmas oldies in the nurses’ station. I’m putting away patient files when Bouncer buzzes out of D,pushing a cart of empty meal trays toward the cafeteria. I count the trays: only four. There were five patients in D, and there was normally a tray for Leo. Why only four today? If one of those trays belonged to Jude, his DNA would be all over it. This could be my only chance, especially since Leo isn’t going to help me. Four is better than none. I file the last of the folders and shut and lock the drawer. Bouncer is fighting with the cart, kicking the wheel. I grab a handful of plastic baggies from the storage room and stuff them in my pocket.

“Want me to take that to the kitchen for you?”

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