Free Torch Scene by Renee Pawlish

my game? A few cases ago, it might’ve deflated my ego, but not now.
    “Tell me about Nick O’Rourke,” I said.
    She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly. “When I first met him, he was charming and attentive. I’d been through a bad divorce, and my ex was a jerk. Never had a kind word for me…” The sentence hung in the air. Then she repeated, “He was a jerk. So when Nick was so sweet, I fell for him. We went out a number of times and at first it was great.” She paused and looked at a couple sitting on the other side of the amphitheater. They were draped around each other, kissing. I waited. “And then things changed.”
    She paused again, and this time she stayed silent, so I prompted her. “What happened?”
    “It wasn’t much at first. He was impatient. Then there’d be a verbal jab here and there, usually something money-related. I’d suggest a restaurant that was more expensive and he’d say I wasn’t good enough for that type of place. We’d argue and I’d end up apologizing, and I’d calm him down. And then we’d usually end up in bed. He was good in the sack.”
    I raised an eyebrow at her candor.
    “Yeah,” she laughed wryly. “I certainly never told my parents that. Things grew worse, but he was in business with Dad, and I knew things weren’t going well. And I had a calming effect on him. I think I fooled myself into thinking I was somehow helping. What would happen if I broke up with him? He was getting so erratic, I thought he might do something to Dad, or the business.”
    “How did you find out about the gambling?”
    “He started taking me to that café. At first I thought it was because it was cheap, but then one time I noticed that the room in the back that he was going into wasn’t a bathroom. I asked him about it and he tried to brush it off. But he was drinking and I kept pushing and his tongue loosened.” She laughed harshly. “He finally broke down and spilled the beans, bragging about how he’d just placed a huge bet on a basketball game and how the payoff would get him out of the mess he was in. I asked what that meant, but he didn’t answer. Instead he went on about the bookie, saying things like ‘how would anyone even know that a bookie was running his business in the back of the restaurant?’ And he talked about how much money the guy must’ve been pulling in, thousands a night. I had to admit, it was kind of intriguing. Certainly nothing I’d ever seen or done. I asked him how he knew about the place and could anyone make a bet, but he laughed and said wouldn’t I like to know.” She shook her head. “Man, I was naïve.”
    “Did he ever tell you?”
    She nodded. “He made fun of the whole thing. ‘You go up to the guard at the door and say you want to see Bob’,” she said in a low voice, imitating Nick. “Then I guess they let you in and you place your bet with the bookie. And you better have the money. He stressed that, and when he did, I noticed the worry on his face. I asked him if he’d gotten in over his head and he told me to shut up. That pissed me off and I got up and left.”
    She stopped for another bite and her hand trembled slightly.
    “Are you all right?” I asked.
    She didn’t answer for a moment. “That night was ugly.”
    “Your father said that the team Nick bet on lost and Nick went crazy.”
    “That’s what I told him.”
    I cocked my head. “He didn’t go crazy?”
    “Oh, he went crazy, yelling about how they were going to come after him. I tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t listen. I offered to help and he insulted me, said I was only good for a lay. I blew my top and he attacked me, and he…he forced himself on me.”
    I wasn’t expecting that. We sat in silence for a bit. She took the last bits of her sandwich and tossed them out for the pigeons to eat.
    “I should’ve reported it, but I didn’t,” she finally said. “When he finished, I left. And I haven’t seen him since.”
    “I’m