10
“So … you and Zander?” Sasha gives me a wink while smirking. “I wonder if anyone saw this coming. Oh, wait, I did,” she singsongs, nudging me as she gets up from the table to refill her glass of wine. Without asking me, she fills mine up, too. I lost count of how many times she has already done this.
Are we nearing the end of the bottle?
“We’re just … friends,” I say awkwardly as a vision enters my mind of him slamming me against the door, plowing into me.
“Yeah, okay. So, I suppose you had some serious trouble figuring out how to keep the door shut, hence the slamming of it constantly. And, am I to believe the water turning on once and off once was you two having a friendly shower together?”
“You have seriously given this too much thought. Don’t you own a TV?”
“Honey, you guys were so loud I was ready to take Van to the next state if he woke up from your racket. Luckily, the poor boy slept through it.”
I redden at just the thought of Van hearing us. How mortifying!
“It was just one time …” I finally admit. She obviously already knows, so what is the harm?
“I knew it! Yes! Joey owes me twenty dollars!” She bounces up and down on her chair.
“Why?”
“He thought it would take longer for Zander to bang you—he’s been off his game since his parents died—but I saw the fireworks between you.” Sasha’s smug smile looks even bigger now, while my own uncomfortable smile disappears completely.
“Does Zander bang all the women he helps?” I can’t keep the bite in my question. Has this been some sort of game?
“What? No. Why would you ask that?”
“You just said you guys had a bet, like that is something normal to bet on.”
“Oh, well, no, we have never bet on that before.” Sasha gazes at me a little longer. When I’m not appeased by her denial, she reaches out to place her hand on my arm, her eyes glued to mine. “I would put money on Zander never sleeping with a client before, and we get our fair share of lonely wives who are sure their husbands are cheating. Half the time, they get a look at Zander and consider cheating themselves.”
“Why would you bet your money on him not going there with one of them?”
“He’s the owner of Jameson Private Investigators, and he takes that very seriously. Like, too seriously sometimes. The guy is anal about everything. When I leave at the end of the day, I sometimes purposely leave a few pens out on my desk. Without a doubt, Zander puts them away before the next day.”
“Couldn’t the cleaners be doing that?”
“We only have them come out once a week. It’s Zander.”
I’m not really surprised by this. I have seen his apartment, after all.
“He hasn’t been in too many relationships, then?” I try to ask innocently, not wanting to appear too nosy or give her the impression I’m desperate.
“No. Truthfully, he’s always so busy. First, it was setting up this business. Then it was the workload he took on. When he suddenly had Van to take care of, he became impossible.”
“Van did mention that a girlfriend broke up with him when he moved in.” Van also mentioned she called him a two-minute wonder. I can now attest that was a false statement.
“I don’t recall her, and I know everything that happens in Zander’s life. Like I said, work wife over here.” She taps her chest before taking another sip of her wine.
I sit back in my chair and take a deep breath. After today’s drama, and the incredible sex that has left me satisfied, if not a bit uncertain about my future, I needed this. Some good wine with a new friend.
Sasha might be a little full-on, and she’s definitely nosy, but I also feel protected being around her. She doesn’t seem likely to back away from a fight, and I like how honest she is. I like that she declared us best friends because she likes me for Zander and wants me in her life. I like a lot of things. And though I don’t like the situation surrounding me, I’m glad I’m not alone.
I seriously lacked friends for most of my life. I was too prickly and angry as a kid, and too much of a loner as I grew up. I was sure everyone was unreliable and would leave. What was the point of bothering with society?
Brian was a complete surprise, even then we both kept each other at a distance. His reasoning for that clear now.
But so is mine.
Sitting with Sasha, sharing a drink and relaxing, this feels good. I hope this isn’t something we stop doing in the future, just maybe without the drama or the overheard sex.
“What about your dating life? Seeing anyone?” I ask, listening when she gives me a telling sigh in response.
“I’m between guys. Taking a little me time, you know?”
“I think maybe I should be taking some of that after what has happened,” I admit, not that this thought will hold up in the face of Zander. My brain might think one thing, but the rest of my body is not in agreement.
“Honey, from the way you were screaming out, I don’t think me time is worth giving up sex like that.”
I flush from her words, the wine warming me up so the feeling doesn’t leave.
“I can’t believe you were listening,” I rebuke her, not that I’m entirely surprised.
“The entire street was listening!” She laughs at me, and I redden further.
Soon, I’m going to look the same color as the wine.
“Shut up.”
Sasha chuckles, and then we both sit silently as we sip our wine.
“He’s a good guy. He won’t hurt you, and he will never break your trust. You could do a lot worse than him. I doubt there are many better. You would regret not seeing where this goes,” she tells me quietly.
“I’m not sure I’m ready yet,” I admit just as quietly. My life went from almost nonexistent to completely full in just a few weeks. That is a lot to take in.
“Then just enjoy the incredible sex for now and let your brain catch up later.”
I roll my eyes at her simple answer. “I’m also not sure if things work like that.”
“Then make it work.”
“Why are you being so pushy?”
“Because I love Zander. He’s the brother I never asked for, and right now, he’s stressed, worried, was nearly killed today, yet he has never looked more alive than when he’s with you. He lives in his own head a lot, but any mention of you gets his full attention. He’s into you, and I like that. I like you, and I like how into him you are. A lesser woman would have shut up when I started demanding he go sort out this shit. You stood up and fought for him to take it easy. I like that, too.”
Her praise warms me, even if it does scare me a little.
“So, that was a test?”
“No, I really did want him to go out and sort out this shit. But, if it had been a test, you would have passed. Besides, you already have the Van test in the bag. That kid loves you.” She salutes me after that and takes another deep pull from her glass.
“He’s a good kid.”
“And he’ll be a happier one with you in his life. I’ve never heard him talk so much before. I admit, it’s only been the past few months I’ve spent any time with him, but in that whole time, he probably said only a handful of words. Tonight, when he ate his sandwich, he couldn’t stop talking. And after the day he’s had, that is a miracle right there.”
“I think you’re giving me too much credit. Zander talked to him before he left, and their conversation, well, it pulled on my heartstrings.” I tear up just thinking about it. I quickly take a sip to distract myself.
“But you made that conversation happen,” she tells me confidently.
“Yeah, by nearly getting them both killed!”
“No … Well, technically yes. But still no. You made that conversation happen by opening Van’s eyes, by making him see past his hate.”
I shake my head, unwilling to take her praise. “They would have gotten there event—”
“Geez, you don’t know how to take a compliment! Just agree with me, sip your wine, and let’s move on,” she snaps, and I decide I might as well do what she says.
“Move on to what?”
“I hope to bed.”
Zander’s voice makes us both jump as he silently saunters toward us.
“In a rush to get Ava back under you?” Sasha taunts.
“Been gossiping over drinks, I see,” he retorts, but there is no heat behind his words.
“Actually, you were both so vocal there was no gossiping needed,” Sasha remarks, standing up and stretching before moving over to the sink to dispose of the remainder of her wine.
Zander shakes his head at her, but he doesn’t seem to be as embarrassed as I feel. Does he not care that we made so much noise? That Sasha knows he slept with a sort of client?
“Spoke to the police; it’s all sorted for now.” He grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water, which he gulps down.
“Just like that?” I glance at the time to see he’s been gone for hours.
“I called Ken before I got there, explained what was going on. He insisted he come down. Turns out, he either knew all the guys there, or worked with one of their friends or family members before. He was able to get them to see things my way, at least for now. They’re still investigating what kind of device was used and how it was detonated.” Zander sounds wary.
Sasha might have made a joke about his bed comment before, but I do think Zander seriously needs some rest.
“Was anyone else hurt?” I ask, knowing this fear has been driving me crazy with more guilt.
“The buildings beside us are pretty damaged, but no one was inside. Some damaged cars, and a pissed off owner across the road because the strip joint had to close, but that seems to be all.”
“And your place?” I’m hesitant to ask.
“Police checked it out. Door was crashed in, but nothing looks disturbed or missing. I’ll have to go around there tomorrow or Monday to check it out myself.”
I sigh in relief as that news finally settles inside me. It might not be safe for Zander and Van to go back to living at the apartment, but at least they will be able to go back there once this mess is cleared up.
“When are you giving Ken the info?” Sasha asks, leaning against the kitchen counter and crossing her arms.
“Tomorrow night. I told him it takes time to get stuff from Jerry.”
“He’s probably eager because he’s worried. That old man always treated us like his kids.” Sasha shakes her head, giving Zander a small smile.
“Yeah, well …” He scratches the back of his neck as he looks at me, his nerves ramping up my own. “He wants to meet you.”
“You told him about her?” Sasha gasps.
“What does that mean?” I ask Sasha before looking at Zander and trying to decipher his words.
“It means, she’s being a bitch. Don’t freak Ava out,” he rebukes Sasha before giving me his attention again. “He wants to meet you in the context of the case. He wants to speak with you, and I think it will be good. It’ll give all of this more weight.”
“Bullshit. You just want him to meet your new girlfriend,” Sasha teases, and I wince at how hard she’s pushing.
“Seriously? What are you, ten years old?” Zander snaps at her. “So I like Ken? So he was like a second father to me growing up? So fucking what, Sash? You feel like rubbing it that my parents are dead? That I won’t ever get to introduce them to anyone else who is important to me? You think that’s funny?” Zander shoves past Sasha, and I see her face is crestfallen.
“I didn’t mean it like that!” she calls out after him, looking down at her feet when he doesn’t respond. “I was only teasing. I would never rub something like that in. I was just happy for him,” she pleads to me.
“He’s had a tough day. I think teasing might be better for a different time,” I suggest softly.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. And I don’t want to freak you out, but this is a big deal. If Zander’s taking you, it’s not because you’re needed for the case.” She moves toward me until she’s close enough to take my hand in hers and squeeze it.
“If you don’t want to freak me out, then why are you saying this?”
“If it were me, I’d want to be prepared. Now you can be. But, don’t worry too much. Ken is a sweetheart. We don’t get to see him much since Artie died. He was always a father to all of us. He’ll love you.”
I shake my head, needing to escape before she freaks me out any further. “Good night, Sasha.”
“Night, honey. Just so you know, I got some earplugs out of the garage. So, go to your heart’s content.”
And on that embarrassing note, I walk down the hall, checking on Van, who is fast asleep, before I enter the next room.
Zander is already half undressed. I try not to ogle him as I sidestep him and grab my new toothbrush that Sasha handed out earlier.
After hopefully getting the wine taste out of my mouth, I again stare at the doorway and recall the best sex of my life. Was that really just a few hours ago?
Considering everything that has gone on today, how has it not been a week since Van and I escaped Brian?
Shaking off these thoughts, I get into bed and watch as Zander goes through the same motions, adding in a quick shower to remove the dried blood off his back.
I should be exhausted after today. The wine has definitely helped loosen me up and make my body sleepy, but my mind continues to race.
I have never been one to rush into anything. Never been the person to take a leap of faith or take risks. Now I’m risking more than just my life. I’m risking my heart, and that might be scarier.
I don’t think I have ever been in a relationship where I felt at risk of losing myself. I have always known I can survive on my own, and while I don’t doubt that I can do just fine once this mess is cleared up and Brian is put away for hopefully life, I do wonder if I can go back to my mundane life and routine post Zander and Van.
They have been such a force in my life these past few weeks, so energizing and present, I’m not sure I have felt this engaged in life ever before.
And what if sex with Zander always feels like it did before? What if that is how it is meant to be? Can I go back to my boring life after feeling so alive and charged these past few weeks?
“You look like you’re thinking really hard about something,” Zander says as he turns the light off at the wall then moves toward the bed. There is only a lamp switched on next to his side of the bed, and when he slips under the sheets, I wait for him to turn that off, too. But he doesn’t. He stays sitting up, his top half leaning against the back wall, turned toward me, staring at me head-on.
“Are you okay with this?” He’s inspecting me with hesitance. I can’t even follow what he means.
“With what?”
“With me being here in this bed with you after what happened earlier between us?”
I open my mouth to immediately tell him that it’s fine, that it is more than fine, but my thoughts travel elsewhere.
“Do you think it’s weird that you were nearly killed, your office building and livelihood destroyed today, and instead of talking about any of that, we’re about to discuss the sex we engaged in earlier?” I blurt out.
His lips twitch after hearing my words. “Would you rather talk about the other stuff?”
“I don’t know if I’m emotionally equipped to talk about anything right now.”
“I just want to know that you’re feeling okay. I hope I didn’t force you to—”
“No. I definitely wanted what happened between us. And honestly, I think it was probably exactly what I needed. I might struggle to look at that bathroom door the same, but I definitely don’t regret it,” I say assuredly before my confidence takes a dip. “Do you have regrets?”
“I regret not doing enough to keep you protected. They found out about you somehow, and I know you didn’t do anything to put yourself in danger. I regret making a promise that you would be safe and then failing on delivering that. I regret that I didn’t find this Clarke douchebag and beat the shit out of him. But no, I don’t regret anything between us.” He is frowning now, and I wish I could soothe him.
“Then we’re in agreement about us both being here right now?” I confirm softly.
“Yes.”
“Good. But just so you know, while I wouldn’t be against you hurting Brian, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble. And with his FBI connections, it was probably lucky we lasted as long as we did without him getting a hint of where I was.”
“I will find out where this leaked from, I promise.” He voice is stern.
I know he won’t stop until he knows how we were discovered. As it is, he’s put his phone, Sasha’s, and Van’s somewhere else so they can’t be traced here. He’s now using a burner, as well as the others.
My fear is that maybe Van blurted something out about me at school. I don’t want any more conflict popping up between them, especially not now that they seem to have found a little common ground, but I also know I won’t be able to stop Zander from looking into it. It’s in his business to know these things, so I will need to just see how this plays out.
“We’re going to see your friend’s dad tomorrow?” I ask.
“Yeah. Ken is a great guy. You’ll like him.”
I gulp as Sasha’s words echo inside my head, but I try to push past those concerns. Meeting the parents, even if it is just a surrogate father, is not something I’m keen on.
“And then, what happens once we hand over the information?”
“It shouldn’t take long for things to happen. We’re basically giving them everything they need to convict with a little bowtie wrapped around it. I doubt Clarke will be free longer than twenty-four hours.”
“So, it could all be over in a couple of days?” I sound wistful, and I cross my fingers that I’m not getting my hopes up just for this all to go pear-shaped.
“Yep,” he assures me, reaching out to take my hand and holding it against his thigh.
“Will I need to testify or anything?”
“You haven’t been involved in any of this. All you did was find the evidence on Clarke’s computer. Seeing the video evidence speaks volumes. I don’t think they’ll need you to testify about that. But, if you want to press charges for assault, depending how Clarke wants to play this, you might have to take this further, which could involve testifying.”
“I just want this over with,” I admit, hoping that doesn’t make me sound cowardly.
“Personally, I think he is screwed with or without you adding on an assault charge. There is plenty of footage to make it obvious he not only is a huge part of this, but he clearly takes a lot of pleasure in what he is doing. Add in what happened after today and what can be tied to him, he’s fucked.”
“I hope so. I hope he never sees another free day as long as he lives.”
Zander scoots down onto his back then, wrapping an arm around me and hugging me to his chest. “This okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Good.” He then reaches out and turns off the light, encasing us in darkness. “One more day, and then this will all be sorted.”
I nod against his chest, feeling a little choked up.
Only one more day before I have less reason to be here in Zander’s arms.
Can’t we just stay in this moment forever?
***
Zander parks his car on the side of a quiet, rundown road. The houses here are at least half a century old, if not more, and many look like they are on the brink of falling apart. We are in one of the poorest neighborhoods, and not a place I pictured Zander’s cop friend living.
Zander doesn’t seem surprised to see the distressed houses or to be in this neighborhood. Then again, he’s likely been here many times before. And perhaps the night makes these houses look worse than they are. Maybe it’s not so bad in the light of day.
I can understand some people have no choice on where they live, and I shouldn’t judge a place just on looks, but I thought cops make better money than just above the poverty line. Ken can afford something more than this place, right?
“This is it?” I ask as I glance up at the house that looks like it probably should have been condemned.
“Yeah, Ken never moved after … Artie grew up here. I think, after what happened, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. I know a few months after it happened, Imogen, his wife, moved out. He was harder to pin down after that. I should have tried harder, though.” Zander is staring sadly at the house in front of us.
“People grieve in different ways. Maybe throwing himself into his work and being busy all the time was how you both coped. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a child.”
“I know. They were close.” Zander’s voice wavers for a moment before he quickly clears it. “Come on; let’s get this over with.”
We get out of the car, and then Ken answers the door after one knock. He takes a quick look at us both, his face stern, and I get an immediate feeling like we are about to step into the principal’s office.
I suppose being a cop most of your life gives you that authoritative presence without trying. Then again, this situation is likely not one for handshakes and smiles. This is serious stuff, and Ken is clearly mentally prepared for the shit that is about to land on him. I have to admire that, because a lesser man would want nothing to do with this.
He nods at Zander before turning away from us and leading us down the dark hallway.
I’m quick to follow Ken, but Zander is a little slower, glancing around the walls and through a couple of the open doorways that reveal empty rooms along the way.
“Shit, did you get robbed or something?” Zander asks as he enters the room where Ken has stopped, his gaze moving around the almost bare living room.
Shadows cover most of the room, but it is easy to see there is nothing more in here than a couch facing away from us and a few empty bottles of beer lying around. A streetlight on outside the window, which has no curtains, means we can see well enough inside this room. There is something sinister about walking in here at night.
“Got no use for most crap people deem important these days,” Ken mutters, bending down to grab a bottle off the floor before he takes a swig of its contents. I guess they weren’t all empty.
“You drunk?” Zander snaps, taking a step over to the wall and flipping the light switch. Nothing happens. “Electricity part of you cutting back, Ken?”
“Guess so,” he grumbles.
“What the fuck is going on?” Zander sounds concerned, which in turn makes me more concerned.
“You got the information I need?” Ken asks, his eyes a little twitchy.
“You don’t look like a cop right now. What’s going on?” Zander demands before his eyes widen in shock. “You in on this fucked up shit, Ken?”
“Hell no!” Ken is quick to deny.
I don’t know him at all, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying to me. This room and atmosphere, however, are freaking me out.
Zander takes a step toward me before he stands in front of me, blocking my view of Ken. His protective stance doesn’t inspire much confidence in this situation.
“Then tell me what is going on.”
“Do you remember playing baseball with Artie?” Ken asks.
I poke my head around Zander’s side to see Ken reach down to the couch and pick up a baseball bat, lightly balancing it in his hands.
“Yeah, of course I do. He was good. He could have gone all the way if he wanted to.” Zander’s voice cracks a little.
I rest my hand over his arm, hoping he might gain some support from my touch.
“Did you know he hated playing baseball?”
“What?” Zander’s voice is sharp and full of shock.
“He liked hanging out with you, but he never cared about baseball.” Ken laughs to himself, shaking his head.
“I … He never told me.”
“He would sit in his room and eye this bat, wondering how much longer he was going to bother playing. But every year, you signed up, so he signed up, too.”
Zander snorts. “I only played it as long as I did for him. I started to lose interest toward the end.”
“I told him he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want. That you wouldn’t care if he didn’t play.”
“I wouldn’t have,” Zander confirms.
“As much as I loved my son, he was never a leader. He followed you as much as he could, and then he decided to follow me.” Ken’s voice falters now.
“He was proud of following in your footsteps. He always told me he wanted to be a cop.”
“And look where that got him. Dead on his first day,” Ken growls, his anger and grief obvious.
“That isn’t your fault. Nothing you could have said or done would have stopped Artie from becoming a cop. It was his dream,” Zander insists.
Ken is obviously having a bad day. I begin to wonder if I should be here for this conversation. I didn’t know Artie, so it feels intrusive being here.
“It was his dream. A dream shouldn’t kill you, though. A dream shouldn’t mean the end of your life.” Ken’s voice cracks. He takes another sip from the bottle before dropping it to the floor where it cracks loudly.
“I know.”
Silence surrounds us then, and I grow impatient, waiting for someone to speak up.
I glance back over at Ken to see him shaking his head before his focus comes back to us.
“I need to know if you have that information.” He sounds serious now, determined.
I feel Zander relax under my hand, which I still have resting on his arm. I’m still not sure what is going on, though.
I look around the room again, feeling worse as I take in the barren look. Certainly, no one wants to live like this. Sure, many things in life are unnecessary and pointless. Who really needs fake potted plants or countless different lamps and lights for just one single room? But some things are necessary. One couch staring at a blank wall is not something a normal person would choose. Add in the picture frames leaning on the floor and flipped over, and I really don’t get a good feeling about this.
“I do have information for you,” Zander says hesitantly, holding out a USB in his hand. I notice it’s different than the one I gave him. Another copy?
“Then I don’t need you anymore,” Ken says calmly, so calmly that I don’t even understand what he means until it’s too late.
I don’t see what happens next, but since Zander is hit over the head with the baseball bat, I assume he doesn’t see it coming, either.
He falls to his knees, and I jump back when the bat swings again and Zander takes another direct hit to the head.
“Stop!” I scream, my feet frozen. I can’t bring myself to run away from this or to crouch down next to Zander. I am stuck where I am, neither helping Zander or myself.
However, when he swings his bat back again, ready for another strike against a defenseless Zander, it’s enough to jolt me back to life.
“No!” I leap over Zander’s prone body and attempt to tackle Ken, but he is in better shape than he looks.
With what seems like zero effort, he swipes at my feet, tripping me and sending me sailing to the ground where my shoulder cracks hard against the floor.
Did I mention there is just a concrete floor? No carpeting or floorboards. Just cold, solid, unapologetic concrete.
“Stupid woman,” he mutters. “Got no fucking clue what you’re doing.”
I have to agree with him. What the hell am I doing?
“Ken …” Zander gasps. “What are you …? Why are you doing this?” His voice sounds disorientated and weak.
“Why?” Ken snorts before shaking his head at us both. “Because there is a shitload of money in this, because I’m living in a goddamn dump and I don’t fucking deserve that. I gave up my wife, my son, and for what? So I could retire with nothing?” he yells, kicking Zander in the thigh.
I wince at the way his body jolts from it.
“You got what you want. Just take it and let us go,” I beg.
“Let you go?” Ken snorts again, his beady eyes gazing down at us. “You’ve seen my face, and you know what I’m doing. There is no way you’re getting out of here alive.”
“So, you’re a murderer now? You’re just going to kill two innocent people to get a bit of money?” I gasp, not only fearful for what is about to happen, but hating that someone is betraying Zander like this. He’s been through enough pain in one lifetime.
“Actually, I’m only going to kill one person,” he says calmly.
For a brief second, I think he means to let Zander go. They have a history together. He was his son’s best friend. Of course he can’t fatally harm Zander. Then it clicks.
Zander would never let this go. He won’t ever stop. So why let him go?
“You’re not going to kill me?” I ask nervously.
“No, honey, I’m not. You’re worth more alive,” he sneers, though I think I see a little hesitation in his eyes.
“You’re going to give her to those assholes? Do you know what they’ll do to her?” Zander yells, a surge of energy springing him to his knees before he is knocked back down.
“Stop hitting him!” I cry, scared when he doesn’t open his eyes this time. Is he already dead?
I urgently search for a pulse, but I can barely find purchase against him with my hands shaking so much.
Ken is mumbling to himself, his back turned to me as he searches his couch.
Now is my chance to run, but how can I leave Zander? In all honesty, how am I supposed to help him? Is there any way to do that?
I need to find help, and since I can’t trust the police, I need Zander’s friends’ help. I don’t have a cell phone on me, so I reach into Zander’s pocket and feel the phone in there. Unfortunately, before I can grab it, Ken turns around, holding a gun.
“No!” Feeling utterly helpless, I cradle Zander’s head in my lap. “How can you do this? Zander is a good man. He was your son’s best friend!”
Without even answering me, he fires two shots into Zander’s chest. His body jerks upward from both; otherwise, he doesn’t even open his eyes.
“Thanks, honey. Don’t know if I could have done that without you covering his head. It’ll make the nightmares more bearable,” he states coldly before his voice sharpens with anger. “Now get the fuck up.”
“You bastard!” I scream as he quickly grabs my arm and forces me to my feet.
In my anger, I attempt to pull away from him. I punch, scratch, and kick him, but all he does is unexpectedly push me away from him, letting me go and almost causing me to fall on my ass. I need all my concentration to remain on my feet, and then, before I can even blink, he delivers a punch to the side of my head.
I only vaguely recall hitting the ground, becoming more aware when I’m dropped somewhere compact, with walls all around me. I’m slow to realize I am in the trunk of a car.
Tears pool down my face, and even that makes me feel useless. I couldn’t do a thing to stop Zander from being hurt, and now he’s dead. Van has lost everyone now. His life will never be the same. And now there is a good chance he will never recover.
As for me, it’s obvious who I’m about to see.
The question now is: how long will I have to suffer before I’m killed?