apartment number,” I gritted through clenched teeth, gunning the gas.
We arrived at the address four minutes later and took the elevator to the eighth floor. I pounded on the heavy wood with my fist, announcing ourselves.
It took everything I had not to kick the motherfucker in.
“NYPD. Open up!”
Tucking my fingers in the top of my belt, Felix rested his palm on the hilt of his Glock. We were prepared for whatever was on the other side of this door.
Or so I thought.
A few seconds later, the door flung open. He appeared calm and cool, but I could tell he was bristling with anger due to the tight line of his lips and jutted jaw. He was just a little bit shorter than me; I’d say around six one or so, wearing a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dress pants, and shiny black shoes. MaryAnn was five four—if that—and very petite.
If I weren’t wearing this badge, I would kill him with my bare fucking hands.
“May I help you, Officer?” he asked politely, despite his rigid appearance.
“We had a call here about a disturbance.” I tried to get a good look around him but his broad shoulders blocked my view.
“I think you have the wrong apartment.”
I double-checked the unit number on the door, but I knew I had the right one. “Nope. The call was for this residence.”
“Is there anyone else in the apartment with you, sir?” Felix asked calmly.
I was anything but calm.
I wanted in this fucking apartment.
He hesitated, raising my suspicion further. “My wife, but she’s in the shower.”
“We’d like to speak with her,” I demanded.
“I just told you she’s in the shower. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He moved to shut the door, but I wedged my boot inside before he could close it, shoving the door open with enough force to make him stumble.
“I told you she’s in the fucking shower. You can’t just barge in here like this,” he stated firmly, as I made my way through the foyer and down the hall.
Nothing seemed out of place until I made it into the living room. A trail of clothes and ladies undergarments led me into the kitchen where I found her lying on her side, face swollen and covered in blood.
Jesus.
Felix radioed for an ambulance while I attempted to assess MaryAnn’s injuries. From what I could see so far, she had a decent-sized gash at the temple and a busted lip, both would probably need stitches.
“MaryAnn, can you hear me?” I asked, pressing my fingers around her mangled ankle.
She groaned softly.
Lifting her head from the floor, she blinked several times before she was finally able to focus her defeated blue eyes on mine. The moment they connected, air froze in my lungs.
They’d once been so bright and full of life, and now they were dulled with sadness and pain.
It seemed like an eternity before I could fix my mouth to utter her name. “MaryAnn.”
She shivered.
Red, puffy lids fell closed on a trembling sigh. Her hands moved to her head, likely pounding due to the blow it had taken. She let out another agonizing groan, and my chest constricted with an ache so deep it hurt to fucking breathe.
“I need you to lie still for me. We have an ambulance on the way. They should be here any minute. In the meantime, I need you to tell me what happened.” She shook her head, pressing her lips together tight while tears fell from the corners of her eyes. “Look, I know you’re scared, but you have to tell me what happened so I can help you.”
“I’m telling you, she fucking fell,” the man bellowed from the other side of the room where Felix kept him contained, questioning him about what happened.
I placed my hand over hers, trying to calm her down despite my own fury. “Tell me what happened,” I said quietly.
She exhaled a long, tortured breath then shifted her gaze to him, courage setting them on fire. “I tried to leave.” Her voice grew stronger with each word spoken, revealing a piece of the girl I once knew. “He did this to
Anne McCaffrey, Elizabeth Ann Scarborough