I hear his footsteps receding, so I drag my stuff into his ensuite bathroom and quickly rifle through my bag for a comb and a hair tie. I know I look like shit before I even look in the mirror.
Why won’t my hands stop shaking?
I take some deep breaths, try to will myself to calm down.
I look around.
This bathroom is beautiful. Two long vanities, back-to-back, so you don’t have to share a sink with someone or even counter space. It’s huge in here. Another skylight. And that tub. Incredible. There’s also a big glass-enclosed shower in the corner with a separate little room for the toilet. The floor tile is white and cobalt blue checkers with that one feature wall all in the blue tile.
The same shade as Jude’s eyes.
I check my purse for a lipstick and see my phone, so I nab it and see notifications for my nanny cam. I see that the last recording is Jude coming in and waking me up to come here. Great. That whole conversation saved for The Alyssa Files. How fucked up is my life? Let’s look…
The footage starts as he’s marching into my room, angry-looking and then his face softens for a split second as he looks down at the bed. I can make out part of my form but not all of it. I also see the little tabby furball beside me.
One good thing about not going to Japan, I can be here for Ralphie when I pick him up from the shelter on Thursday.
If I live that long.
The soft look on Jude’s face is one that’s frame-worthy. If I wind up on the run again I think I’m going to take a still shot of him from this video before his face goes mad again and he wakes me up. That photo will maybe keep me company on the lonely nights because I know right now that I’m never, ever getting involved with a guy again. Lifelong celibacy is what I see in my crystal ball.
I’m so pathetic.
I turn it off not liking the change in his demeanor as I see the image of myself sitting up. Instead of deleting the video, though, I save it.
I use some of Jude’s mouthwash and try to make myself presentable.
I’m still in my work clothes, so I change into a pair of orange shorts and a thin white hoodie, then look in the mirror again. I look awful. My blue eyes are bloodshot. I’m pale. The backdrop of the blue wall really makes my eyes stand out in the mirror.
With my light blue eyes and his dark blue eyes, I wonder what sort of shade of blue our kids would have.
I shake that off. No thoughts of babies with Jude are allowed to invade my mind.
Funny though, while I had that thought, my hands finally stopped trembling.
***
Jude and a tall, late-thirties black man with a goatee sit there having a beer at his dining table. Jude’s to the right of the table head and the other guy is at the head of the table. He’s not in a cop uniform, instead dressed in a sports jacket and khakis, but there’s a notepad and phone on the table beside the beer bottle.
The cop rises when he sees me and extends his hand.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Boyd Evans.”
“Ally. Hi.” I shake his hand and then retreat to the opposite end of the table.
Jude gets up, goes to the fridge, and produces a bottle of his grandmother’s wine. He pulls a wineglass down from the cupboard and uncorks the wine.
I sit down at the foot of the table and pull my chair in.
Boyd smiles, clearly looking to disarm me. I’m sure my choosing the farthest spot from him says something about me.
“I do not want to give you an official statement. I’m sorry, but it feels too dangerous,” I say. “I’m here under duress.”
He nods slowly, then shrugs. “So how about if you just share whatever details you can think of about why you ran away, and we make nothing official at this point. I’m gonna ask some questions and take some notes. How about that?”
“Then what?”
“From there, I explore the facts you give me – carefully, so as to make sure there’s no ripple effect. You don’t need to worry. No one will know these facts have come from you or where you are at this point in time. This’ll totally be on the downlow, but should that need to change, I’ll alert you immediately. I don’t want you to worry about any of this, don’t want you to guard any details. It’s important that I know you’re giving me all you know. Any questions?”
“You just contradicted yourself,” I say.
He smiles.
I continue. “Nothing official and then saying you’ll tell me if the downlow status needs to change tells me you’re driving this thing and get to pick the route and the destination, and I’m sorry, but I’m not comfortable with that.”