Saved by a Dangerous Man
By: Cleo PeitscheMy phone rang. It rang again, and again, and then suddenly Corbin’s deep voice exploded from my unanswered phone and filled the room.
“Audrey? Where are you?”
“He’s dead,” I mumbled, my words so faint that Corbin couldn’t have possibly understood what I’d said.
“Where are you?”
I began crying, each inhalation a shuddering gasp that strangled me and left me panting, my lips numb from lack of oxygen.
“Don’t move,” Corbin might have said. “I’ll find you,” he definitely said.
And through the darkness and the despair, despite the shadows and the dead man not eight feet away, the little voice deep inside me had only one thing to say: It will be ok. Corbin will fix everything.
And then he was there, pulling me into his arms, telling me not to worry, that he would take care of everything.
I saw what he did. How he searched the body, emptied the pockets, wrapped the body up. He wiped the corner of the desk, cleaned blood out of the carpet, his movements efficient.
He’d done this many times before, and heaven help me, I was glad. I wondered if the dead man had a wife, kids, a sister he was close to. But I didn’t care.
At that moment, I knew I was lost, a despicable human being, only interested in saving her own skin.
But even that… It will be ok. Corbin will make it better.
Somehow.
