Page 81 of Crawl
A fist pounds the front door, followed by multiple doorbell rings. My heart stops in my chest. Is it Cash?
But it’s not him. He’d never knock like that; he’d invite himself in. I glance at the clock; it’s midday. How did I sleep for that long? I click out of the security footage program on my laptop, then straighten my clothes. I find Peter in jeans and a shirt on the front porch. His eyes widen.
“Remedy,” he whispers. “What happened to your—”
“Cat scratch,” I lie. The cut on my cheek from Cash looks worse than that, but it doesn’t hurt. “What’s up?”
“I’ve got a favor to ask.” He wipes his nose. “Mind if I come inside?”
I don’t like being alone with men, besides Cash, but after what I did to my stepdad, I’m not as scared. I step to the side and let Peter in. The door closes behind us, and Peter’s shoulders sink. His eyes hold me like he regrets what he’s about to do. Have I made a mistake?
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Do you trust me, Remedy?” he asks.
In my mind, I scream:No, no, no.But I stare back at him and keep my facial expression straight. “What is this about?” I ask.
“I saw the footage.”
I roll my eyes. “What footage?”
He gestures to my bedroom. “That’s where your laptop is, right? The footage from Cash’s office.”
My chest tightens and my throat runs dry. He sawthefootage? If Peter saw the footage of me killing my stepdad, and Cashhelping,then what are we going to do?
Is there even a ‘we’ anymore?
My head pounds, each heartbeat suffocates me with pain. I want to shake him and ask what the hell is going on.
But I can barely move.
“What?” I whisper.
“I’m going to have to arrest you,” Peter says slowly. “I’m willing to help work out a plea bargain for you, but the thing is that IneedWinstone. And the only way I’m going to get him is through you.”
I don’t realize I’m moving backward until I stumble into the wall. I slide against the surface, trying to find another way out. This is the perfect time for Cash to pop up like he always does, but there are no footsteps or piney cologne.
Peter and I are alone.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Peter says, stepping closer. He pulls the handcuffs from his back pocket. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“Is this even legal?” I pant. “How’d you get the footage? You don’t have a warrant for that.”
“Sometimes, you have to do what’s illegal to do what’s right,” he steps closer, and I’m backed into a corner. My heart rate increases and I start to hyperventilate. “I knew you weren’t going to help me, so I resorted to other measures. Like hacking your computer.”
The image of Peter using my computer at the estate flashes in my mind. Did he only pretend to need my laptop?
He lied, and I’m trapped. I want to scream for Cash, but I can’t rely on him to save me every time. With all of my strength, I shove Peter back and that shock stuns him long enough for me to stumble out from under him. I race for the front door, but he lunges, latching onto me, and I kick my feet, but he pulls my shoulders, maneuvering until I’m pinned inside of his arms. He reeks of soap and chocolate and I want to rip his tongue out for eating a damn candy bar before coming to arrest me. But I whimper in defeat. This is so messed up. After everything we’ve been through, I’m still being used to capture Cash.
Screw this.
I spit and scream at Peter. “Fuck you,” I hiss. But he holds my wrists tighter until he locks them in the handcuffs in front of me. I twist against the bindings, the metal scraping my skin, but it’s no use. I’m already locked in. I try to take a deep breath, but I can’t. He presses my arms, steadying me on my own two feet. Chills erupt all over my body; I hate it when he touches me.
“I want to help you,” he says. “You’ve done some bad things, but you’re not the criminal here.”
“You don’t want to help anyone,” I scowl.
“Of course, I do.”
