2507 Massachusetts Avenue, Anacostia, Washington, D.C.

1 0 0
                                    

III. RETURN


January 10, 2019, 9:38 p.m.

 I stood there for about an hour, but it felt like an eternity. I stood leaning against the railing outside my house, surrounded by falling snow, soaked and frozen to the bone. Step by step, I approached the door. I overcame my fears and my fears. It was the fear of rejection. I went back many times and needed clarification on it. I was now. I had to fix it all. I needed to get my life in order. I had to do it for Chrissy. I couldn't let her go through the same thing I did. The thoughts did not let me knock in peace.

"What will he think of me after that night? How can we all get back to our normal lives after that? How do I explain to him why I ran away? Why did I leave them both? What if my worst fears are true?" I asked myself out loud.

I was standing in front of the door. All you had to do was knock or ring the bell. Neither was needed. I had the keys, but at that moment and in that situation, I felt like a stranger, a guest in the house, not its owner.

I knocked. The lock clicked, the handle moved, and the door opened. I was shivering with cold. I looked up and saw him again, and my heart raced again. I felt like a scared little girl.

"Hi," I said, waving lightly. "Can I continue?" I asked shyly.

I was very shivering with the cold. My hands were folded, and I rubbed my fingers together to warm up. I could see on his face that he wasn't expecting me, but on the other hand, there was a spark of joy and maybe relief in his eyes when he finally knew I was okay and even standing right at his door.

Such a return to "reality" was tough for me. I didn't know what to expect from Kent, myself, and the environment. There were still some risks that I was taking. I threatened my life and the lives of everyone I met, including Kent and Chrissy. But there was one question I had to ask Kent that was causing me even more stress because it could change absolutely everything. I didn't understand it all myself yet.

He was standing in the doorway about a meter away from me. He stepped back and let me in. I entered very carefully. I walked down the hall through the kitchen to the living room. My knees started to buckle; I immediately leaned against the couch and sat down. I still didn't have enough strength. I had practically none left, but I tried to act strong and suppress the excruciating pain. I bowed my head so that my chin rested between my knees. I ran my fingers through my wet hair.

Kent followed me and stopped opposite me, looking thoughtfully behind one of the chairs. He was troubled by questions that I would hopefully be able to answer. But he didn't say a word. He saw the tiredness on my face. He wanted to leave and let me rest there.

"I know it's not easy with me," I quietly said so he could hear it.

He stopped but didn't turn around. He stood there with his back to me, between the walls.

"I know it's not easy with me," I repeated the sentence, emphasizing the word know.

"What can I tell you?" he sighed. "why are you here, Alexis?"

I raised my head and looked at him. He turned around. I looked into his face and eyes. He was also looking into my eyes, but differently than before. Not like before.

"Why do you ask like that? I'm at home," contritely. "our daughter needs me," I added.

"You have sufficiently indicated that we are only second to you. You clarified that you were willing to leave me for the case. Why? Why are you so obsessed?" he asked desperately.

"It is not true. Do not say that."

I hastily stood up and approached Kent.

"I appreciated your loyalty, support, and love from day one. I didn't believe you could love me, but you proved the opposite. I am grateful to you for every day and moment, but...," I hesitated.

I wanted to touch him. He pushed me away.

"But?" indignantly. "are you serious? You lie to me all the time, don't you?" I didn't react, and I just looked at him.

"So it's true," shocked. "You lie to me. You lie to me all the time. You don't love me," exasperated. "how could you live all this time next to me, next to Chrisy, knowing that you are lying and pretending? You never cared about us..."

"No. Stop," I interrupted him.

"You stop. At first, when you came, I thought you wanted to come back. Then I was going to suggest you visit Chrisy because that's your duty as a mother, but now," he mused. "... what happened to you Alexis? What did you do?" suspiciously.

I was shocked. I didn't know what to say.

"You have a gun on you. Give her to me," he ordered.

Reluctantly, I put it in his hand, and he pulled out metal handcuffs from his pants pocket. "I didn't mean it this way," he said. "I read the profile, I saw the evidence. I have to arrest you," he announced.

"What?" I blurted out.

"Turn around and put your hands behind your back, please," he asked. I did what he said. I still didn't understand what was going on. He approached me and put the handcuffs on me.

"Alexis Stepman, I am arresting you for the murders of Jack Bencker, Cody McBenning, and Todd Sparks. You have the right to remain silent. It can and will be used against you in court if you say anything. You have the right to a lawyer; if you can't afford one, one will be assigned to you," he said as it was in all the manuals, but I could tell from his voice that he was not exactly pleased.

"You can't do this."

"I can. I'm an FBI agent, and you're a suspect.'

He noticed the cuts on my forearms and wrists while handcuffing me. Although they were treated several times, my blood was so diluted by the medication that the wounds did not heal at all. I was bleeding through the bandages. Blood ran down to my palms. The metal handcuffs were all red.

My Life with DeathWhere stories live. Discover now