Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Robbie headed off to grease palms and pull in favours, leaving me alone with a still visibly upset Ji-ho and a shaken Channing. The room felt different without Robbie in it, like the removal of his powerful presence had left a vacuum in his place.
God, I was pathetic, missing him the instant he left.
Channing was still crushing the notebook he held, and Ji-ho sat too still, staring into the computer screen, frozen like a gargoyle caught in the sun. Neither of them looked at me.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘Let’s do this fast, because we’re only doing it once.’ My stomach rolled. I hated this part. Hated the way saying it out loud made it more real, more immediate.
I’d have nightmares again tonight.
I cleared my throat. ‘The fact that I got kidnapped when I was a teenager does not define me. I am still the same person you knew yesterday, when you didn’t have that knowledge.’ I looked at Ji-ho. ‘Or the images of that knowledge.’
‘You weren’t just kidnapped,’ Channing said, his voice twisted with horror. ‘Stacy, you were tortured.’
The word hit the room with a sickening weight. Tortured. Not a word ever used lightly.
My scars itched, my awareness of them drawn to the forefront of my mind, and I clenched my fists tightly to stop myself from scrabbling at my skin like I was due to go into the Common, as I would be shortly.
My nails bit into my palms. Pain I could handle.
I’d done it before. I could do it again.
Feelings though? Vulnerability? Especially with co-workers. That was a whole different beast.
I thrust my shoulders back and owned it.
‘I was tortured, yes. It was the worst experience of my life. I’ve had nightmares and I’ve got scars, but I came out of that, and I rebuilt myself.
I am who I am because of everything that came before, and that’s important to me. It’s an important facet of my history.’
I didn’t look at either of them while I spoke, focusing instead on the kitchen, where my ghost was agitatedly switching the kettle on and off. On and off.
It was better to watch that flicker than to look at my comrades. If I looked at them, I might see pity, and I didn’t want pity. Not from them. Not from anyone.
‘Immediately afterwards was a very black period in my life,’ I continued in an even voice that didn’t betray the pit of depression I’d struggled with.
‘But I pulled myself out of it, with a psychologist’s help, and now I’m a good cop because I know what it is to be a victim.
I know that fear, that horror. I lived with it.
And I joined the force because I wanted to stop others from experiencing the same pain.
’ I drew in a breath. ‘I was a beat cop for a while, but I always responded with a shade too much force. In the end, Thackeray hooked me into the Major Incidents Team.’
Ji-ho’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and Channing looked impressed that Thackeray had hand-selected me.
‘He figured I wouldn’t get as many complaints against me if the victims were already dead.
He was wrong.’ A rueful smile tugged at my lips.
‘But homicide was one of the first places I fitted in. Where I could do good things. I know the darkness killers live in, and I’m damned proud of putting an end to their nefarious acts, one way or another.
I’ve seen more killers added to Wraithmore than any other Inspector in history because I don’t believe death is always the right answer.
Some think that’s because I’m soft, but it’s not.
It’s because I’m hard. Death is swift, easy.
Wraithmore isn’t. Let the fuckers suffer.
’ The words came out sharp and clean and vicious. And I meant them.
Channing looked at me with unfiltered awe. ‘You’re amazing. You’ve always been my idol, but this cements it.’
I half-laughed uncomfortably. ‘Channing, don’t put me on a fucking pedestal.
’ I jabbed a finger at him in emphasis, then stuffed my hands back into my pockets because they were shaking and I’d rather die than let Channing notice that particular detail.
‘I’ll only fall. But I do appreciate the vote of confidence. ’
‘What I went through,’ Ji-ho began, ‘is nothing compared to what you went through.’ His voice cracked on the last word, and he stared hard at the table like the wood grain might contain the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.
‘Fuck that!’ I said sharply. ‘We are not doing that. Your experience was awful, and your pain is valid. Just because I went through something bad, it does not in any way diminish or negate what you went through. Not for a second. You lived through your worst fears. You survived them. You are brave. You are strong. And this will not break you. But do not, for one second, minimise your trauma.’ The words came out harder than I’d intended, not because I was angry with him, but because I needed him to believe me. I held his gaze and dared him to argue.
Ji-ho took in a shaky breath. His hands were wrapped tightly around his cold coffee mug.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Okay. I’m a fucking mess.
Those pictures.’ His voice hitched, and he swallowed hard like the words tasted bitter.
He closed his eyes. ‘I wasn’t braced to see you, to see that.
And I just need to say that I am so fucking sorry for it all. ’
‘Wasn’t your fault,’ I said. ‘Put it away.’ I kept my tone blunt on purpose. Comfort was one thing. Letting him spiral into guilt and anguish was another.
He opened his eyes and looked at me. ‘I’m going to see a psychologist. I’ve decided.’
My heart lifted. ‘Good for you, Ji-ho. I know that’s hard for you, but it’s the right thing to do, and I’m proud of you for doing it. You want another coffee?’
‘God, yes. Please.’
I moved towards the kitchen before Ji-ho could change his mind, grateful for something to do with my hands. I hoped my new coffee machine was simple.
It transpired that it was pretty idiot-proof, and I set the coffee to percolating.
‘Channing, tea? Dr Pepper? Coffee?’
‘Vodka?’ he joked, his smile too quick, too bright. His knee bounced under the table, jerking up and down like his nerves needed an outlet or he’d explode.
‘None of that, I’m afraid. I do have some whisky though. And we’re done here, so you can have two fingers and then the two of you can clear out. We’ll reconvene tomorrow, back at Bridge Street.’
‘I thought Thackeray said forty-eight hours’ absence?’ Channing objected, doing the maths. ‘Unless you’re planning on coming in during the afternoon?’
‘I will have had forty-ish hours off already. That’s enough.
I’ll be in at 9am. I need to make sure my precinct is still standing after Elvira’s been in charge for two days.
’ Routine was my safety blanket. If I kept moving, I didn’t have to sit still long enough to feel anything too deeply.
Didn’t need to give my ghosts power over me.
‘I wouldn’t worry about the office,’ Channing said. ‘We’ve practically all been here with you. How much trouble can Inspector Garcia get into?’
I groaned. ‘Don’t ask.’