TAMED | FREENBECKY

29

Still in her pajamas at ten o'clock in the morning, Becca stretched out on her couch with a large bowl of cereal and an oversized spoon, ready for a long, pathetic Saturday at home. Going out was hardly worth the effort. She didn't want to do anything outside her own four walls badly enough to justify dragging city's finest along. Besides, in her apartment she didn't have to worry about watching her back. Out in the city streets, everything seemed ominous these days.

Picking up the remote, Becca clicked on the television just as her cell phone buzzed its way toward the edge of the coffee table. She sighed, muting the sound of the black-and-white movie playing onscreen. When she looked at the cell phone's display and saw Freen's number flashing, her stomach twisted.

Two weeks had passed since their argument and this was the first time Freen had called. Their only communication had been the text message Freen sent the morning after, saying she loved Becca and wished she had the courage to explain. Becca had taken that as good-bye. Not having expected to hear from Freen again, she was torn about what to do.

Part of her wanted to ignore the call. If their relationship hadn't been important enough for Freen to fight for two weeks ago, Becca didn't know what Freen could possibly say to fix things now. But the bigger part of her, the part that desperately missed the way she felt when they were together, wanted to give Freen a chance to try.

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Becca answered the phone. "Hello."

"Becky." At the sound of Freen's voice, so full of emotion, the lump grew bigger, nearly choking her. "Thank you for taking my call."

"What do you want?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Okay." Becca set down her bowl of cereal, no longer hungry. "Talk."

"Not on the phone. May I come over?"

Becca closed her eyes. She wanted Freen to do just that more than anything. But not this Freen—she yearned for the Freen she could trust, the one who could somehow make all her troubles melt away. Who shrank the world down to just the two of them, so connected in the safety of their little bubble that nothing else seemed to matter. Becca didn't have the energy to deal with Freen the liar, the coward who refused to take responsibility for her actions.

Becca shook her head. "I can't do this, Freen. I really can't. There's too much crazy in my life at the moment to deal with what happened between us. Maybe later. Just not right now."

A long, uncomfortable silence stretched out before Freen spoke. "I deserve that, I know. But I need to tell you something important about the man who's stalking you."

"What?"

"Let me come over and I'll explain—everything. I promise."

Shocked, Becca tried to imagine what information Freen could possibly have. Even knowing that Freen had called in the first victim's body to the police, never once had Becca truly believed that Freen knew more than she let on. It had seemed impossible that she could hold back, knowing Becca's safety was on the line.

Clearly, she'd never really known Freen at all.

Wary, Becca said, "If you have information about the case, I can set up an interview for you with Detective Taran. You can tell Dasha whatever you think we should know."

"No, I can't." Urgency permeated Freen's tone. "This is something I need to tell you. Then you can help me decide how, and what, to tell Dasha."

"How about you talk to me with Dasha present in the room?"

"Some of what I need to tell you, Dasha can't know." As though aware of how much she was asking, Freen sighed deeply. When she spoke again, she sounded on the verge of tears. "Please trust me, Becca. You know I'd never hurt you. Right?"

Funny thing was, Becca did trust her, even if she didn't want to. "Okay. Why don't we meet somewhere for coffee?"

"I'd rather have some privacy. Either your place or mine."

Exhaling, Becca said, "You're not making this easy, Freen."

"I know. But some of what I have to tell you really needs to stay between you and me. It's...there's something I've never told anyone, about me. Something you need to know. I hope...I hope it helps you understand."

Becca couldn't ignore the earnestness in Freen's voice. She sounded resolute and passionate, crumbling Becca's determination to keep her distance. She told herself that didn't mean she was a fool. This was a woman she'd fallen for, hard, uncharacteristically quickly. There had been something real between them. Maybe there still was.

"I was planning to spend today on the couch," Becca said, "watching old movies. Come over whenever you want."

"Great. Thanks." Beneath Freen's relief, Becca sensed an undercurrent of fear. "I'll be over soon."

"I'll need to tell Dasha and the others that you're coming," Becca said, before Freen could hang up. "So they'll let you through."

"Okay."

"I won't let Dasha know you have new information. You and I can talk first. Then we'll decide what to tell her."

"That's all I ask." Freen exhaled shakily. "Thank you, Becca."

Becca hoped she hadn't just agreed to something she'd regret. She'd do anything for more information about her stalker, but she wasn't exactly ready to have her heart stomped on again. Whatever Freen needed to tell her, she hoped it was worth the risk. "You're welcome. I'll see you later."

Disconnecting their call, Becca took a deep breath before pulling up Dasha's number and clicking the Send button. Dasha answered on the second ring. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Becca said. "I wanted to make you aware that I have a visitor coming over this afternoon."

"Okay. Who?"

Becca hesitated. "Freen."

She didn't have to see Dasha's face to know she was scowling. "Oh, really."

"She wants to talk." Becca bit her lip, committed to keeping her promise about not telling Dasha everything. Not yet. "Don't judge me."

"I'm not."

Becca knew that was a lie. Whether or not Dasha knew the real reason for Freen's visit, Becca didn't like Dasha thinking she was foolish. "You are. And I'm asking you not to."

"Okay," Dasha said in a tight voice. "I just care about you. You don't need her bullshit right now."

"I'll be fine. I just wanted to make sure you knew I was expecting her."

"Of course. If you need anything, you know how to call me."

Becca barked out a humorless laugh. "Come on, Dasha. Talking to Freen is hardly panic-button material."

"You never know."

Rolling her eyes, Becca said, "I'll see you later, Dasha. Enjoy your Saturday."

"You, too."

Becca hung up, tossing her phone aside. She eyed her cereal, but her appetite had vanished. She was going to see Freen again. Groaning, she slumped on the couch and turned up the sound on the television, hoping to drown out her anxious thoughts.

She didn't know what she wanted to have happen. Actually, that was a lie. Though the strictly rational part of her brain rebelled at the girlish, fairy-tale notion, Becca wished for some kind of happily-ever-after, no matter how improbable it seemed.