Learn To Love Again

Chapter 23

"What...," I said in bewilderment.

Did he just say that Malcolm escaped?!

"What do you mean he escaped?!" I exclaimed, my breathing a bit unsteady.

He didn't answer. "May I come in?" He responded instead. "I'd rather we talk about this inside."

I stepped aside for him to come in. When he did, I locked the door behind him and followed him over to the sofa.

"We're not yet sure how it happened," he said when we were both seated. "We were holding him at the station until his court date. Last night, the guard in charge of watching him reported to the others at the station that he was gone. He couldn't explain what happened. He claimed he had fallen asleep and when he woke up, Malcolm was gone."

"That doesn't make sense," I said. "How could he have gotten out? Where was the key?"

"That's the crazy thing about it. The key wasn't in the room at all."

I was confused."What? Then how did he open the cell?"

"We're not sure yet," he said. "We're looking into it. We think he may have had some help."

"From someone at the station?" I asked.

"I didn't say that. I'm not sure what happened yet, but I am going to get to the bottom of this and I will find him, I assure you."

I nodded. For some reason, I believed him. I sighed. "What now?"

"He's going to come after you, no doubt."

"Gee, that's comforting," I said sarcastically.

"It's the truth; he will. And I've been assigned to protect you."

I gave him a disbelieving look. "To protect me?"

"Yes."

"Why do you assume I need protection?" I said defensively. "I can protect myself."

"Obviously. You definitely proved that the last time he attacked you." The sarcasm in his voice annoyed me and played at my anger.

"Are you saying I can't protect myself?"

He sighed. "Look, this wasn't my decision. I know you can take care of yourself, but it's an order and I have to follow it."

"Whatever you say." I rose from the sofa. "I have to get ready for work."

"I'll take you."

"Thanks, but I'll drive myself," I said.

"Okay." He rose also and started towards the door. "I'll wait for you outside."

I sighed. "I said I'll drive myself."

"Then I'll follow you in my car."

This man is persistent!

"Okay," I said. "I'll be out in an hour."

I followed him to the door and, when he exited, locked it behind him.

I took a quick shower, got dressed, and headed back downstairs to have some breakfast. I decided on some peppermint tea and cold cereal. When I was finished eating, I brushed my teeth, grabbed my keys, and left the house.

When I stepped outside, detective Sterling's car was parked in my driveway. Annoyed, I huffed as I made my way over to it. He saw me approaching and let his window down.

"I didn't think you were serious," I told him.

"I'm not allowed to let you out of my sight," he said nonchalantly. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you?" He opened the passenger door and held it open, giving me a questioning look.

Honestly, I didn't want him to let me out of his sight either. If, God forbid, I had another encounter with Malcolm, it would be better if detective Sterling were there.

"Fine." I entered the car and shut the door.

As he pulled out of the driveway and onto the road, I could hear a faint clap of thunder in the distance. I hadn't realized just how cloudy the skies were until then. But then again, the hurricane was only less than two weeks away.

Detective Sterling reached over and touched a key on the sound system and I jumped as a loud, downbeat song suddenly poured out of the car stereo. He turned down the volume then muttered, "Sorry, I didn't remember it was so loud."

I listened to the song until the chorus, then, when I still didn't recognize it, asked, "Is this the kind if crap you listen to?"

He feigned hurt. "Your generation will never know the goodness of these songs."

"My generation?" I said with a smile. "Don't you mean our generation."

"Your generation. I'm not claiming your generation if this is how ignorant you are to good music."

The song ended, and a familiar tune began. It was Jah Cure's Prison Walls.

"Now this is good music," I said.

He shrugged. "There's no denying that."

We continued on toward my workplace in silence, listening to the sound from the stereo. It was when we were a minute or two away that the clouds finally broke and sent large raindrops banging on the car roof.

Crap. I hadn't brought an umbrella.

"Please tell me you have an umbrella," I said to detective Sterling.

"I think so." After pulling over and parking in front of the building, he reached over to the backseat and presented a small, black umbrella. "Stay here."

He opened his door and–while opening the umbrella– got out and shut it again, then came around the car and opened the passenger door. I stepped out under the umbrella and he pushed the door shut. As soon as we started walking, he handed me the umbrella and ran the rest of the way to the overhanging of the building.

"You know, we could've shared the umbrella," I said as I stepped under the overhanging.

"You'd have gotten wet. And then you'd have been all," he cleared his throat, "'First you put me in jail, and then you got me all wet.'"

I laughed at his mockery of my voice. "Okay, first of all, I sound nothing like that. Secondly, I would not have said that."

I closed the umbrella and started to fold it. He took it from my hands and finished it, then held the glass entrance door open for me to enter.

"Why are you being so gentlemanly today?" I asked.

"Why can't I be gentlemanly? Does being nice make me a bad person?"

"No," I said. "But it does make you a potential serial killer."

He laughed, and we both stepped into the building.