Page 86 of Kill For Me Kill For You
Billy looked closer. ‘Yes, that’s Felicia,’ he said. ‘You found her.’
48
Ruth
It all happened as if it was in slow motion.
Her right hand reaching for him.
Her footsteps on the wooden floor.
Almost there.
Leaning forward.
The back of his checked shirt framed in the window. Almost within touching distance.
Reaching. Inches from grabbing him.
Her mouth open in a silent scream that suddenly erupted from her throat as . . .
His shirt disappeared as he fell from the window ledge, revealing a perfect blue sky over green trees in the distance.
Ruth’s left hand grabbed the frame and she leaned out to grab the collar of his shirt.
She was too late.
Ruth closed her eyes right before he hit the concrete steps. She heard it, though. The smack of flesh, the crack of bone.
She forced herself to open her eyes.
He lay very still. On his left side. Right hand beneath his cheek, as if to cushion it while he slept. His legs were bleeding, one ankle pointing in the wrong direction.
She thought for a moment he’d somehow survived the three-story drop, that by some miracle he was still alive, but then she saw the pool of blood forming on the sidewalk beneath his head. Growing, as if someone was pouring it onto the ground from a watering can.
Ruth turned away from the window, covered her mouth with both hands and then ran. Out of the apartment, down the stairs, outside.
She knelt by his side, calling his name as she heard the sirens approaching.
Scott’s eyes were closed. He seemed so peaceful. She whispered to him that he was going to be okay.
She stroked his forehead, taking no notice of the tremors in her fingers.
Then hands took hold of her, lifting her away. She only glanced at the police officers who then placed her on the ground. They spoke to her. Asked her what her name was. She couldn’t answer. She couldn’t speak. Her lips were moving. She could hear herself talking, but she knew they couldn’t hear her. She felt as if she was behind glass.
What happened next seemed strange. Time seemed to move so fast. She was in the back of a police car, watching the paramedics take Scott away. She pounded on the door, but it wouldn’t open. She was locked inside.
Then she was in a police precinct. There was a towel round her shoulders and a cup of coffee in front of her on a cheap gray table. She couldn’t stop shaking. But now she could hear the buzz and voices of a busy police department. There was a man in a cell close by kicking at the steel doors. Cops were telling him to shut up. There were other faces of frightened people scattered around on wooden benches. She looked at her watch, but couldn’t focus enough to tell what time it was.
She looked up at the TV on the wall.
CNN was playing to the crowd of people waiting to speak to a police officer. A woman with a child in her arms began to cry, and then the baby started crying.
Ruth looked up at the TV. President George W. Bush was giving a speech about his meeting with a foreign ambassador. Congratulating himself, and wishing for all Americans that tomorrow’s holiday – Thanksgiving 2007 – would be their most prosperous yet.
49
Amanda
