Page 24 of Jase

“Are you a bad person?”

“I guess it would depend on your definition of bad.”

I let out a sigh. “I’m tired. Too tired for anything other than blunt honesty. Just tell me what I’m dealing with so I can go to bed.”

“You’ve done nothing but sleep since I dropped you off. You need to be up. You need to move around and eat something.”

He was right, but I couldn’t get past the need to bury myself under the covers and disappear. To forget. The pain was coming back, and I didn’t want to feel.

“Then answer. Do you watch people being tortured? Do you frequent shows like that?”

A deep breath left him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever watched. I didn’t even think it was real at first. People put on all kinds of shows to make money. If I wouldn’t have seen your tattoo, I might not have even had my suspicions. I recognized it which triggered me to look deeper into the situation.”

“How did you know about my tattoo?”

“They showed it on the news.”

I cringed.

“It was beach footage they showed first. You had your back to the camera, and you were looking over your shoulder. Then one of you at what looked like a work party.”

“I guess I should be thankful, even though I really didn’t want anyone to see me like that.”

“It saved your life.”

“Did it?” My lids closed. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you helped me. I am. I just…I’m so tired.”

Thoughts were getting hard to process. The ones coming were definitely not ones I wanted to remember or think about. I pulled the throw tighter around my shoulders.

“Kody, I know you want to go to bed, but I need you to stay awake. Tell me about yourself.”

“You want to know about me?”

“Yes. Is there a reason your digital footprint is so small?”

“My what?”

A pause. “You have an email, but you don’t have social media. The pictures of you circulating are from other people’s accounts. I find that…interesting.”

“I have no reason to make accounts. Why would I need to?”

“What about connecting with friends? Old ones. New ones. You could keep up-to-date on social activities in the area. They have those. Maybe you like plants and want to join a botany or gardener’s group. Have you ever given it thought?”

“You sound like you’re trying to sell me something.” I stood, walking over to grab my tea. “I don’t need a group or new friends; I have Tiff. We’ve been best friends since we were in kindergarten together. She’s all I need. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have acquaintances, but I wouldn’t say they’re friends. I just don’t want to complicate my life with endless drama. I like my solitude. I like quiet. I like to read. People get in the way of that.”

“I get it. I do. I saw you reading the last few days. Do you ever go out?”

“Not really. I’ve gone to the occasional club over the years, but nothing extreme. It was more in college anyway. I like my routine and privacy.”

“You mentioned to the cops that he put something over your mouth and nose as you approached your apartment. How did he find you? Do you know?”

For a moment, I had forgotten my body was beaten to hell, or that I was talking to an actual person at all. I felt out of it. In a daze. Sleep begged for me. I needed to close my eyes. To disappear. I needed my meds, my hand was killing me.

“You’re in pain.”

“I am.” I stood, heading to the bag I’d placed down on the coffee table when I’d come in. “The coffee shop down the road. That’s where I first saw him.” I opened the bottle of pills, taking two. “He bumped into me. Then, he winked. It was the oddest thing. It’s like he wanted me to remember him. He took me that evening, after work.”

“So, he’d been watching you. Probably for a while.”