Capture

Martin studied me before continuing, “Just know that you couldn’t have stopped him. It would have been your word against his, and you had no evidence. But did you hear anything else?”

“Just that there was video proof.”

“Yes, there is a video. Actually, there were a few videos, from several different vantage points. He was arrested for the drugging, assault, and attempted rape. He was also expelled once the video was shared with university administration.”

I hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Was he convicted?”

“He will be. A few of the guys on the team will testify. Plus there’s the videos. His dad tried to delay the proceedings and, because of the delay, a few other girls have come forward. As of now it looks like he’ll be facing more than one rape charge.”

I felt sickened by this news—that several girls had been abused—but also heartened they had come forward. “Well, that’s good, right?”

“Yes. That’s good.”

“Well…good. I’m glad he was stopped.”

“Me, too.” Martin stared at me for a long moment and I knew he wanted to say something more. I was just about to prompt him when he said, “I don’t think I ever thanked you for that night, when you came to the fraternity house and told me what he was planning.”

I gave him a half smile. “It’s no problem. Did you ever find out who the girl was?”

“No… but thank you,” he said solemnly. Then, he added just as solemnly, “I promised you I’d take care of him, and I wanted you to know I kept my promise.”

My left eyebrow lifted of its own accord. “You took care of him?”

His expression grew cagey. “Technically, he did it to himself. I just installed the cameras…”

I studied him, guessing he’d likely been more involved than just installing cameras.

Martin heaved a heavy sigh, settling deeper into the cushions of the couch. “Like I said, everyone is the main character in their own story. Even villains.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know… Not necessarily. I mean, sometimes the story is bigger than the characters, like Jurassic Park. The Park was really the central focus of the story, and all the characters were secondary to the Park. Their only purpose was to react to the Park.”

Martin yawned, set his now empty beer on the coffee table, and closed his eyes. “That’s because dinosaurs are awesome. We’re all sidekicks to dinosaurs.”

“Or dinner.”

“Or dinner,” he slurred, issuing me a sloppy nod.

I watched the rise and fall of his chest, noted he appeared to be completely relaxed. If I was very quiet I knew he’d be asleep in less than sixty seconds.

But the conversation—or confrontation—with his business partner earlier was still nagging at me. If he fell asleep I’d have to wait another day to get my questions answered.

“Sandeke,” I whispered. “Why does Emma dislike me so much?”

He shifted, his head lolling to the side, and heaved a sigh. “She doesn’t know you.”

“That’s why she doesn’t like me?”

“Yeah…if she knew…you…she’d…really like you.”

Aaaand he was asleep.

I studied him for a long moment, but knew I didn’t have the heart to wake him. He’d been so tired. As we talked I saw the tension ease from his shoulders. He needed a night off from whatever genius high-stakes shenanigans he’d been up to.

I set my tea on the coffee table, then remembered the blankets in the linen closet. I tiptoed to the hallway and grabbed one, laying it gently on his sleeping form and tucking it between his hip and the sofa cushions so it wouldn’t slip off. Standing back, I surveyed Martin. Unable to help myself, I threaded my fingers through the hair at his forehead and pushed it gently to one side.

He turned his head toward my hand, pressing against my lingering touch. The simple action, the way he instinctively sought affection and warmth made me smile sadly. I’d forgotten how lost Martin was, how completely used and abandoned he’d been by his family. In my own grief surrounding the breakup, I’d forgotten he didn’t have many friends, and trusted very few.

This made my heart hurt in a new way, one focused outward instead of inward, and I felt the weight of my childish selfishness.

He needed a friend, someone who truly cared about him.

I still cared about him a great deal. I was maybe (definitely) in love with him. So shouldn’t that mean I wanted what was best for him? Shouldn’t I want to see him happy? Even if we didn’t find happiness with each other?

I let my palm press against his cheek for a few more seconds before drawing slowly away, and I made a decision. I was going to give our friendship a real chance, and not just use it as a way to get over Martin Sandeke. He deserved better than that. He deserved human kindness and consideration.

I was going to shelve my persistent feelings of romantic attraction and be a good friend to him. I was going to be his safe place, the friend he needed.

CHAPTER 6

Periodic Properties of the Elements

My phone alarm announced the end of happiness (sleep). It was obscenely early in the morning. For a moment I was confused by my surroundings, but then I remembered whose apartment I was in and the happenings of the last twenty-four hours. This served to wake me up quite effectively.

It was still dark outside. My first show for the day was at a fancy tree-trimming party in a penthouse not far from where Martin lived. It would be just Fitzy and me, and for that I was grateful. I wasn’t ready to discuss rebound guys with Abram, or heroin as a viable life choice with Janet.

Tossing the covers to one side and grabbing my clothes, I planned to tiptoe to the bathroom as quietly as I could, not wanting to wake Martin at this ungodly hour.

As it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about waking him because he was already up and leaving his room just as I exited mine. But he was dressed in workout clothes whereas I was still in pajamas. He didn’t see me at first because his attention was on his phone.

“Martin,” I whispered—as I was prone to do early in the morning when regular speaking volume is blasphemous—wanting to get his attention before we collided in the hall.

He lifted his eyes, frowning as though he were confused by my presence, and took a step back. “What are you doing up so early? Did I wake you?”

“I have a show.” I indicated with my chin to where I held my tuxedo.

“Ah.” His gaze skimmed over me, probably taking in my sleepy and rumpled appearance.

I decided then and there that something about the way he looked at me would always make me feel awkward. It wasn’t his fault. It was just him being Martin: the shade and intensity of his eye color paired with the brilliance and acumen behind his gaze; the sharpness of his bone structure; his towering height; the graceful line of his form and movements—he couldn’t help causing my self-consciousness any more than I could help the reaction.

I made a decision to just accept it rather than fight it. Maybe if I accepted that my body would respond to him no matter what my head and heart might prefer, then I would be able to move beyond the sensations until they felt commonplace.

“You’re off to work out?” I asked unnecessarily, still whispering.

“Yeah. I meet a few guys at the Hudson boathouse and we try to get in a few thousand meters before breakfast. The river isn’t frozen yet, so we still have a few weeks. Why are you whispering?”

I cleared my throat, managed to lift my voice slightly, though it was still low and sandpapery from sleep. “I don’t know. I just always do this early in the morning. It’s like my ears aren’t ready for sound yet.”

This made his mouth curve into a small smile. He walked slowly forward until he was standing between me and the bathroom. Martin leaned against the hallway wall and peered down at me.

“I know what you mean.” His answering voice was soft, low, rumbly, and delicious. Again, I allowed the sensations of being close to him in a dark, small space and speaking with him in low, intimate tones wash over me. Accelerated heart rate, warming cheeks, fluttery stomach. No use fighting it.

I tried to redirect the conversation back to him and his morning routine. “So, you’re still rowing? That’s great.”

He nodded, his eyes on mine, but he appeared to be distracted, torn. “I could…I mean, I could cancel if you want company this morning.”

“But if you cancel how will they row the boat? Doesn’t every seat need to be filled?”

“Technically they need an even number of rowers. So, most of them—six plus the coxswain—would be able to go, but someone might have to sit out.”

“Then go row your boat. Don’t worry about me. I have to leave soon anyway.”

Martin glanced at his phone again. “I can stick around for another ten minutes. Come out here.” He motioned for me to follow as he pushed away from the wall and walked past me. “I’ll make you coffee and I have muffins.”

I watched his back while I considered this offer, and followed him into the kitchen. I deposited my clothes on the couch as we passed. He was being awfully solicitous, maybe he wanted to talk about the Emma situation.