TWENTY-FIVE
Boom. Boom. Boom. The thumping sound filled Hayes’s dream. A cop was hitting the prison bars right next to his head, trying to wake him up. He had his hand over his ears and was yelling at them to quit. But the banging wouldn’t stop. Boom! Boom!
Hayes’s eyes popped open, and he blinked into the darkness, coming out of the dream with blurred awareness. For a second, he couldn’t place where he was, but when one of Ren’s drawings came into view in a shaft of moonlight from the window, his head cleared. Cora’s warm body was tucked beneath his arm, their legs fused together with a sheen of sweat. But she was still asleep. The banging started up again, and Ren rolled over to face him, mumbling, “What the fuck?”
“The door. Someone’s knocking on the door,” Hayes said, peeling away from Cora and glancing at the bedside clock. Three thirty in the morning.
Ren eyes opened at that. “What? It’s the middle of the night.”
The knocking came again along with a muffled voice. Hayes sat up and got out of bed in search of his jeans. “I’ll go see what’s going on. Stay here with her.”
Cora seemed deep in sleep, her body rising and falling with slow breaths, her hair damp with sweat.
Ren pushed up on his elbow. “Be careful. If anything looks suspicious, call the police. There was a break-in down the street a few weeks ago.”
Hayes gave a nod, but unease was curling in his gut. Late-night phone calls were bad enough. Late-night knocks were worse. He tugged on his jeans and strode down the hallway. The heavy thudding knocks started up again as he made his way to the front door. He was just leaning down to peek through the peephole when the voice on the other side shouted, “Police, open up.”
Police. That sense of dread he’d had over the knocking jumped straight to all-out fight-or-flight. Hayes had never wanted to hear those words again. They’d preceded his arrest all those years ago. But before he gave in to the panic, he reminded himself that in the normal world, police were coming to help or to check on something. Maybe there was a gas leak in the neighborhood or another break-in. Maybe someone had seen something outside the house. Hayes took a deep breath and opened the door.
The two cops on the other side seemed surprised to have the door finally open. The male half of the pair put a hand on his holster, like he expected Hayes to leap at him.
Hayes supposed he looked like a threat, standing there shirtless and wild-haired and taller than the two of them by half a foot. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Hayes Fox?” the female cop asked, her voice hard.
The words punched at Hayes. He tried to remain calm, tried not to jump to conclusions or panic. “I am. Is there a problem?”
“Do you have a young woman inside your home right now?” the male cop asked, trying to see past Hayes’s shoulder.
Hayes’s jaw tightened. He wanted to ask them what the hell business it was of theirs, but he’d learned in prison that mouthing off to cops got you nowhere good. “Can I ask what’s going on? Why are you here?”
“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to step aside and let us come in to check to make sure everything’s okay,” the female cop said, flashing her badge at him.
“What?” A sick feeling was creeping through Hayes. “Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Sir, someone who recognized you from the papers called in a report that they saw you earlier tonight at Bar None and that you slipped something into a young lady’s drink and then left with her. We need to come in and make sure that everything is okay.”
Hayes’s blood turned to ice.
“What’s going on?” Ren said from somewhere behind him.
“Sir, stay where you are,” the male cop said to Ren, his voice loud and hard, like he’d been practicing that particular tone by watching too many cop dramas on TV. “We need you both to move aside and let us come in.”
Hayes knew there was nothing he could do to stop them. They didn’t need a search warrant if they thought someone was in immediate danger. He backed away, everything going in slow motion in his head as he processed what they’d said.
Ren looked to him, eyes wide. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Someone said they saw me drug Cora at the bar,” he said flatly.
“Is that her name?” the female cop said sharply. “Are you admitting you drugged her?”
“Of course he didn’t drug her!” Ren said, his temper and fear rising to the surface. He stared at Hayes, his skin going ashen.
“I need you to calm down, sir. I didn’t ask you the question,” she said, holding up a hand to Ren and looking to Hayes.
“I didn’t drug her,” Hayes said, his hands starting to shake. “She’s in the back bedroom, sleeping.”
“Stay here with them, Crandall,” the female cop said to her partner. “I’ll go check on her.”
Officer Crandall gave a quick nod, hand still hovering over his belt, keeping all of his tools of the trade within reach as he eyed Hayes and Ren. “Gentlemen, I need you to take a seat on the couch, hands on your lap where I can see them.”
Ren looked like he was going to protest, but Hayes gave him a quick shake of his head. Ren let out a breath and followed Hayes to the couch. Hayes sat there, his mind going into some shut-down mode. He hadn’t drugged Cora. But deep in his bones, he knew that wouldn’t matter. It was happening again.
He’d let his guard down, and he’d lost the chess match again.
“It’s going to be okay,” Ren said firmly. “We didn’t do anything. Cora will tell them.”
Hayes wanted to believe that was true. But he couldn’t fight that feeling of inevitability. Just like that movie, he’d escaped his plane crash, but fate wasn’t going to let him get away with it. This was part of some plan, some puppeteer running a long game. And he wasn’t going to stop. He wasn’t going to leave Hayes alone.
Hayes bowed his head and closed his eyes, letting that despair sink in.
But soon his own fate was forgotten when he heard the female cop’s voice from the back of the house, calling Cora’s name. Hayes head snapped upward, expecting Cora to come running out from the hallway, pissed as hell at the questions.
But Cora didn’t come out of the hallway. And he didn’t hear her voice.
“What’s wrong?” Ren asked, his voice going tight and body tense.
But there was no answer. All they could hear was the cop calling for an ambulance on her radio.
That’s when everything shifted. A new kind of fear filled Hayes. Not fear of what was going to happen to him. He already knew how that would go. But a to-his-marrow terror that something had happened to her. Cora. Cora, who had been curled in his arms only a few minutes before. Cora, who had belly-laughed on their bed after they’d all made love. Cora, who he’d told he’d keep safe tonight.
He jumped up from the couch, adrenaline and a single-minded need to see her filling him. “He asked you what’s wrong?”
The cop went on alert. “Sir, I need you to sit down.”
“No, tell us she’s okay.” He stepped forward. “Let me see her—”
But that was the last he got out. The sudden movement had snapped the cop into action. In one quick second, the Taser was off his belt and aimed. Pain like Hayes had never felt lit him up and he went to the ground like a felled tree, his knees landing hard and his body jerking.
He only vaguely registered the female cop still calling Cora’s name. And Ren calling his. Then he was on the ground, unable to move, and cuffs were being put on him.
Cuffs went on Ren, too.
And after only a few months of freedom, Hayes was back in a cop car on his way to the station, where he was going to be charged with rape.