See Me (31 page)

The day was cool and the breeze held the nip of the coming winter as she walked the sand. Clouds had rolled in, white and gray, and it felt like impending rain. The waves rolled in calming rhythm, and as she walked, she finally felt her thoughts beginning to settle long enough for a bit of clarity to emerge.

She wasn’t on edge simply because she was being followed. Nor was she merely reliving the fears she’d felt
for
Colin as he’d stood with the police officers with the rest of his life hanging in the balance. She saw now that she was also afraid
of
Colin, and as sick as the thought made her feel, she couldn’t push the feeling away.

 

 

Knowing that she needed to talk to Colin, Maria drove to Evan’s. When Colin opened the door to his apartment, she saw that he had been studying at the small kitchen table. Though he invited her in, she declined, the interior of his place appearing suddenly claustrophobic. Instead, they went to Evan’s porch, each taking a seat in a rocking chair as the rain began to fall.

Colin perched on the edge of his seat, forearms resting on his legs. He looked tired, the last twenty-four hours obviously taking a toll. He did nothing to break the silence, and for a moment, Maria wasn’t even sure where to begin.

“I’ve been on edge ever since last night,” she ventured, “so if I’m not making much sense, it’s probably because my thoughts are still jumbled.” She drew a breath. “I mean, I know you were just trying to help me. But Lily was right. Even though I believe you when you say that you weren’t going to hurt the waitress, the way you were acting told a different story.”

“I almost lost control.”

“No,” she said. “You
did
lose control.”

“I can’t control my emotions. The only thing I can control is my behavior, and I didn’t touch her.”

“Don’t try to minimize what happened.”

“I’m not trying to minimize it.”

“What if you get angry with me?”

“I would never hurt you.”

“And like the waitress, I might end up terrified and in tears anyway. If you’d acted like that toward me, I’d never want to talk to you again. And then, with Evan…”

“I didn’t do anything to Evan.”

“But had it been anyone else who grabbed you – a guy you didn’t know – you wouldn’t have been able to stop, and you know it. Just like Margolis said.” She made sure to hold his gaze. “Or are you going to lie to me for the first time and say I’m wrong?”

“I was scared for you. Because the guy was there.”

“But what you did didn’t make it better.”

“I just wanted to find out what he looked like.”

“And you don’t think I do?” she said, raising her voice. “But tell me this – what if he’d still been there? Just sitting at the bar? What would you have done then? Do you honestly believe that you were capable of having a reasonable conversation with him? No. You would have overreacted, and right now, you’d be in prison.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You already apologized.” She hesitated. “As much as we’ve discussed your past and as much as I thought I knew you, I realize that I don’t. Last night, you weren’t the guy I fell in love with, or even a guy I would have dated. Instead, I saw someone that – in my past – I would have gladly put away.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “All I know is that I don’t have the energy to start worrying that you’ll do something dumb and throw your life away, or that you’ll end up frightening me because something inside you suddenly switches on.”

“It’s not your job to worry about me.”

At his comment, she flushed, all her fears and anxieties and anger rising to the surface like an air bubble moving through water.

“Don’t be a hypocrite! What the hell do you think all that was about last night? Or the past week, for that matter? You hid out on a roof for hours to take pictures of my boss, called every florist in the city, and drove two hours to show a stranger a photograph! You did that because
you
were worried about
me
. And now you’re saying that
I’m
not allowed to worry about
you
? Why is it okay for you to worry, but not for me —”

“Maria —”

“Let me finish!” she demanded. “I told you that what was happening to me wasn’t your problem! I told you to let it go! But you were dead set on doing whatever the hell you wanted… And okay, maybe you did talk me into letting you take the photos. Because you made it sound like you knew what you were doing – like you could handle it. But based on last night, you obviously can’t! You were almost arrested! And then what would have happened? Do you have any idea what that would have done to me? How I would have felt?”

She pressed her fingers to her eyelids and was trying to organize her thoughts when she heard her cell phone ring. Pulling it from her pocket, she recognized Serena’s number and wondered why she was calling. Hadn’t she said something about going on a date?

She answered and instantly heard the panic in Serena’s voice, the words spilling out in rapid Spanish.

“Come home now!” Serena sobbed before Maria could say a single word.

Maria felt her chest constrict. “What’s wrong? Is Dad okay? What happened?”

“It’s Mom
and
Dad! Because of Copo! She’s dead!”

C
olin worried that Maria was too shaky to get behind the wheel, so he drove her car to her parents’ house, trying to read her mood as she stared out the rain-splattered window. Between her sobs, Serena hadn’t been able to tell Maria much – no one really knew anything other than that Copo was dead. As soon as they pulled into the driveway, Maria rushed into the house, Colin trailing behind. Her parents sat holding each other on the sofa, haggard and red-eyed. Serena stood near the kitchen, wiping at her tears.

Felix stood from the couch as soon as Maria entered, and they both began weeping. Soon the whole family was standing with their arms around each other, crying while Colin stood quietly in the doorway.

When their tears abated, they all collapsed on the couch, Maria continuing to hold her father’s hand. They were speaking in Spanish, so he couldn’t follow much of the story, but he heard more than enough to let him know that the dog’s death had made no sense at all.

 

 

Later, he sat with Maria on the back porch and she caught him up on what she’d learned, which wasn’t much. Her parents and Serena had gone to their relatives’ after brunch, and while normally they’d bring the dog, there were going to be a lot of kids there, and they’d been worried that Copo might get overwhelmed, or worse, accidentally hurt. Serena had returned to the house an hour later because she’d left her cell phone charging on the kitchen counter. When Serena saw Copo lying near the back slider – which had been left open – she assumed the dog was sleeping. But when the dog hadn’t moved by the time she was about to leave, Serena called out to her. Copo didn’t respond, so Serena went to check on her, only to realize that the dog had died. She called her parents, who drove straight home, and then Maria.

“Copo was fine before they left. She’d eaten and wasn’t acting sick. There was nothing for her to have choked on, and my dad didn’t find anything in her throat. There wasn’t any blood or vomit…” She drew a shaky breath. “It’s like she died for no reason, and my dad… I’ve never seen him cry before. He brought her everywhere; they hardly ever left her alone. You can’t understand how much he loved that little dog.”

“I can only imagine,” he said.

“Maybe,” she said. “But still… you have to understand that in the village my parents came from, dogs work or herd or spend time with you in the field, but they aren’t regarded as pets. My father never understood the American love affair with dogs. Both Serena and I begged for a dog when we were younger, but he was adamantly opposed. And then, when Serena and I left home, there was suddenly a gigantic void in his life… At some point someone suggested they get a dog, and this time, it was like a light suddenly went on for him. Copo was like his child, but more obedient and devoted.” She shook her head, quiet for a moment. “She’s not even four years old. I mean… can a dog just… die? Have you ever heard of that happening before?”

“No.”

She’d expected the answer, but it didn’t help, and her thoughts circled back to the reason she’d needed to talk to him. “Colin… About what we were talking about earlier…”

“You were right. About everything.”

She sighed. “I care about you, Colin. I love you and want nothing more than to be with you, but…”

The word
but
hung heavy in the air. “I’m not who you thought I was.”

“No,” she said. “You’re exactly who I thought you were, and you warned me right up front. And I thought I could handle it, but last night, I realized that I don’t think I can.”

“What does that mean?”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think that for right now, it might be best to slow things down a bit. Between us, I mean. With all that’s going on…” She didn’t finish. But she didn’t have to.

“What are you going to do about the guy following you?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard for me to even think straight right now.”

“That’s what he wants. He wants you worried and afraid, constantly on edge.”

She pushed her hands into her hair, kneading her temples. When she spoke, her voice was ragged. “Right now, I feel like I’m stuck in this awful dream and all I want to do is wake up… And on top of everything else, I have to support my parents. My dad wants to bury Copo tonight, and that’s only going to make him even more emotional. My mom, too. And this rain… Of all the weekends for Copo to die, why this one?”

Colin peered out at the backyard. “How about I help get things ready?”

 

 

Maria brought him a shovel from the garage, and after a little back-and-forth between Maria and Felix, Colin started digging a hole in the shade of an oak tree, rain soaking through his shirt. He remembered doing the same thing for his own dog, Penny, a long-haired miniature dachshund. The dog had slept with him in bed when he’d still been living at home, and while at school he’d missed her more than his family.

He remembered how hard it had been to dig the grave the summer after his sophomore year; it was one of the few times he could recall crying since the first year he’d been sent away. With every shovelful of dirt, he’d had a memory of Penny – running through the grass or nipping at a butterfly – and he wanted to spare Felix that.

The task also got him away from Maria. He understood her need for space right now, even if he didn’t like thinking about the reason. He knew he’d screwed up royally, and right now, she was probably trying to figure out whether Colin was worth the risk.

When Colin finished digging the pit under the tree, the family buried Copo. Again, all four of them cried and exchanged hugs. And after they went back inside, Colin began to shovel the dirt back in place, his thoughts returning to the stalker and the fact that Maria was being followed. He wondered what the stalker’s next move might be. And he decided then and there that whether Maria wanted him in her life or not, he would be there if she ever needed him.

 

 

“Are you sure?” Maria asked him, standing with him on the front porch. “I’d be happy to drive you home.” Inside, Carmen and Serena were making dinner. Felix, as far as Colin knew, was still on the back porch, sitting alone and holding Copo’s collar.

“I’ll be okay. I need to run anyway.”

“But it’s still raining.”

“I’m already wet.”

“Isn’t it kind of far? Like five or six miles?”

“You need to stay here with your family,” he said, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. “Can I call you?” he finally asked.

Her gaze flickered toward the house before returning to him. “Why don’t I call you?”

He nodded before taking a step backward, and without another word, he turned and began to run.

 

 

Maria didn’t call for the rest of the week, and it was the first time in his life that he cared enough about a girl for that to actually matter to him. Or enough for him to even think about it in unexpected moments, or whenever the phone rang – which wasn’t often.

He wasn’t going to call her. He wanted to; more than once, he’d actually reached for his phone before reminding himself she’d asked him not to. Whether she eventually called or not was her choice.

To keep from dwelling on it, he tried to stay busy. He added an extra shift at work, and after his classes and before his shifts, he spent time at the gym, working with Daly and Moore.

They were more excited about the upcoming fight than he was. While fighting someone like Reese was a rare opportunity to measure his own skill level, win or lose, it wouldn’t mean much for him in the long run. For Daly and Moore, a good match might mean a minor windfall for the gym. No wonder they spent the first two hours on Monday reviewing films of Reese’s former fights with Colin, studying his tendencies and evaluating strengths and weaknesses.

“He’s good, but he’s not unbeatable,” Daly continued to insist, Moore in agreement. Colin listened while trying to tune out comments that he regarded as too wishful or optimistic – basically, anything that had the words
Reese
and
ground
in the same sentence. Reese would eat him alive on the ground.

On the plus side, the films showed that Colin’s skills were slightly better than Reese’s when it came to striking. Especially kicks; to that point in his career, not a single fighter had gone after Reese with kicks to the knees, despite Reese offering numerous opportunities. Reese also left himself open to shots at the ribs after any combination, which was useful to know when planning a strategy. The problem was that when the fight actually started, strategies often went right out the window, but that’s where – according to Daly and Moore – Colin had the biggest advantage.

“Reese hasn’t ever fought anyone with more than six or seven fights under his belt, which meant his opponents have been both outclassed and intimidated. You won’t be intimidated, and that will rattle him more than anything.”

Daly and Moore were right. Fighting – whether in bars, the street, or even the ring – wasn’t only about skill but confidence and control as well. It was all about waiting for the right moment and then taking advantage of it; it was about experience when adrenaline was pumping, and Colin had had more
fights
than Reese. Reese had been an athlete, someone who shook hands with his opponent after a match; Colin was the kind of guy who struck first and broke beer bottles over people’s heads at the end, the sole intent to cause as much damage as quickly as possible.