Page 88 of Open for Negotiation
“You haven’t ruined anything, okay?” I step closer and closer. “But you’ve made a mistake, a dangerous one, and I need you to give me the knife, okay? I don’t want you to hurt yourself or anyone else.”
“Is Scarlett all right?” she asks, still clutching the weapon tightly.
“She’s fine,” I stop just shy of where she’s sitting and squat down to be level with her. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days and is fresh off a bender. She reeks of smoke, alcohol, and sweat. “But the cops are on their way, Miranda. I had to call them.”
“Oh God, oh my God,” she cries. “Why would you do that? Why do you want me in jail? I hurt her. They are going to arrest me.”
“No they won’t.” I hear from behind me, and I turn to see Scarlett standing there, wrapped in a white towel, blood streaking down her arm. “They won’t because I’m not going to press charges.”
My brows furrow in confusion at first, but then I remember our conversation. I told her how sick Miranda was, how she just needed someone to help her. She needed someone to step in and show that they cared about her as a human. I’ve tried for years, but sometimes it takes someone who should hate you to make you understand that you’ve hit rock bottom.
“What? Why?” Miranda asks, wiping her tears away.
“Because I understand heartbreak,” she says simply. “I know what it’s like to feel out of control and like you’re falling, with no hope of rescue. You made a mistake, I’ve made them too, and you came here because you were scared. You were scared of losing something that has always made you feel safe. This is your chance, Miranda. I’m going to tell the police I don’t want to press charges, but you need to go with them to a hospital to get some help. Please. Before anyone else gets hurt.”
Thank you, I mouth to her and she offers a small smile and nod in return.
Fuck, I love this woman.
“But first, I need you to give me the knife, all right?” I ask her again. “I don’t want you holding it when the cops get here.”
“I don’t understand,” Miranda says, sniffling a little and wiping her nose with her hand.
“I know,” Scarlett says. “And that’s okay. But take the help… for your sake and Max’s.”
The seconds seem to pass in slow motion while the thoughts swirl around in Miranda’s head, but eventually, cooler thoughts prevail and she lays the blade into my hand before diving into my arms for a hug, sobbing and apologizing all the while.
