The Night I Was Saved

Chapter Thirty-Nine

"These are the shifts I like," Dwight says while shutting down the engine of the car. "Not a lot of fuzz, done on time. Hell, if I get home fast I can catch Jamilla before she heads to bed."

I hum in agreement while my eyes are glued to my phone.

I love you.

The last three words of her text to me and all I want to do is jump on my bike and go to her so I can say it back in person. Fuck, I knew it was a good idea to give her a phone.

"I can report, man. If you want to head out?" Dwight pulls my attention away from my phone. When I have my focus on him completely, I don't miss how he scans me for a moment. "How's Josephine doing? And her baby?"

This is the first time since I'm back at work that he asked me about them. Yesterday we had a shift together too, and I honestly expected him to ask about them then, but he didn't. He seems hesitant now still, and I think it's because he, too, was there when we crashed that door. Out of everyone, he and I are the only ones that found her in the worst possible situation, and he was the first one that noticed her surroundings and how suspicious they were. I never thought about anyone else than her, Dais, and me, but Dwight must've felt just like me the moment he figured it all out.

"They are good," I answer, a smile forming my lips on its own accord. "Healthy. You wouldn't recognize her if you saw her now. And Dais is the perfect baby, she grows, she drinks, and she sleeps."

Dwight nods, but the smile that broke through my face moments ago hasn't rubbed off on him. "I'm glad to hear that. I can't believe it's been almost three weeks since we found them."

"I know," I agree, nodding my head.

For a moment we are both silent. Dwight nods his head once more, and just when I think he is going to head out of the car he pipes up again. "Do you know if she wants to press charges against him?"

His question takes me by surprise completely, and I do not doubt that he sees that on my face as well. "Um, we've talked about it," I answer. Dwight and I usually don't have the deep talks that he is beginning now, and it suddenly feels awkward.

"Good," he mumbles. "I'm sorry for asking. It's just that I spoke to Hanson the other day. He wants me to testify about what happened when we found her. They want to start a case, even though the suspect isn't talking still. They think they have enough based on evidence and witness statements. Didn't he ask you to testify?"

Although I'm not surprised that Hanson is moving this to court, I am surprised that Dwight knows about this sooner than I do. You would think that I'd been notified by Hanson about shit like this, especially because the victim is living under my roof.

"Not yet," I settle on, knowing that I shouldn't jump to conclusions right away. "Are you gonna do it?"

Dwight shrugs and cracks his fingers. It's his nervous tick; he always does it in tricky situations. "I want to. I feel like I must do so. But on the other hand, it feels weird to do so when the victim doesn't. I don't know, as if I'm overstepping a line, you know? The whole team feels that way according to Hanson. They don't understand why she doesn't talk."

And suddenly, it becomes crystal clear why he wants to talk about this with me. It's what Hanson tried all those days ago, and it does not sit well with me, at all. "What are you on about, Dwight?" I counter, my voice suddenly sounding less like my own.

"What do you mean?" He asks immediately, his tone oozing defense.

"You bloody well know what I mean. Did Hanson convince you to talk to me about this?"

"Christ, man, chill," Dwight mumbles, taken aback by my tone. "I was just wondering. You can't blame me for having questions about this. I found her in the same state as you did."