Her Destiny (Reverie #2)(34)
Yeah. I regret it. I was wronged and no one seemed to care. I can’t let that fuel my actions for the rest of my life but I certainly have a right to be bitter.
And man, I hate being inside the station, the familiar smell, the sounds, the drab color of the walls. I’m right back where I don’t want to be and am thankful that the moment Reverie is done giving her statement, I can walk my ass out of here and never look back.
If I were smart and had an actual plan, I’d leave this town for good. I have a decent job but I can find one just like it anywhere. I can find an apartment and new friends too. I don’t need this place.
But change is hard. I have no one to rely on.
Only me.
We approach the front desk and Reverie asks to see Detective Jacoby. The man appears within seconds of receiving notice we’re here and he leads the both of us back to his desk, holding his hand out toward the two chairs in front of it, indicating he wants us to sit down.
“You wasted no time getting here,” he says to Reverie with a pleasant smile. But I can see the disappointment in his gaze. I know he doesn’t like that I’m here with her. This guy has never been on my side and my alibi is going to disappoint him.
“I figured I needed to get this over with. So you would leave Nick alone once and for all,” she says, fidgeting in her seat. I can tell she’s uncomfortable and I wish I could give her hand a reassuring squeeze but I don’t. We need to remain as neutral as possible, especially in front of this guy.
“So you’re the one who brought her here?” Jacoby settles his attention on me.
“I gave her ride, yeah.” I nod.
“Nasty weather out there.” He points out the obvious. “Guess it was worth it though, to get us off your ass, right?” Jacoby laughs at his own joke, though Reverie and I both don’t even crack a smile.
Jerk. He’s making fun of my life. A life the police force have made miserable going on almost two years.
He sobers up real quick. “All right, little lady. Let’s get you settled so we can record your statement.” Standing, he hitches up his pants, keeping his gaze pinned on her. “You ready?”
She blinks up at him. “You’re not going to question me here?”
“Nah, it’s too noisy out here with everyone around. And we gotta get rid of Fairfield.” Jacoby jerks a thumb in my direction. “Can’t have him lurking around sending you looks, getting you to change your statement if you say something wrong.”
I’m offended and from what I can tell, so is Reverie. She stands, her head held high. Jacoby is a complete dumbass. “He can’t change the truth, Detective Jacoby. I don’t like how you imply he has control over what I’m going to say.”
“Why, I never said any such thing,” he blusters, his cheeks ruddy.
“You implied it though and that’s almost the same thing.” She straightens her shoulders, her expression cool and composed, completely unruffled. Yet again, I’m impressed as hell. Jacoby most likely can sense he won’t rattle her and I bet he hates that. “Are you ready?”
“I am.” He leads her away, sending me a long, measured look as he glances over his shoulder one last time. I return the same look, refusing to let him intimidate me.
I stare at them long after they disappear out of vision, the relief that takes hold of me so strong I almost want to shout with happiness. This is it. They can’t come after me any longer. I’m done with this place.
So. Done.
I’m making my way out of the room where the other detectives’ desks are when I hear someone shuffle up behind me.
“Well, look at you. Finally come down to the station to confess your sins and tell everyone what you did to my sweet little girl?”
All the relief bleeds out of me until I feel as flat as a deflated balloon. I recognize that voice. He sounds drunk. Angry. Frustrated.
Slowly I turn to find Krista’s father standing in front of me, wavering on his feet, his eyes bloodshot, his mouth turned up in one corner with a sneer. She looked so much like him, though prettier, of course. She was mean when she drank too.
Just like her dad.
“Hey Mr. Benson,” I offer in greeting because I don’t know what else to say, waiting for the blow of his words pummeling me. The man likes to shout. I’ve heard him do it enough. I don’t think being inside a police station will stop him either.
“Don’t you ‘hey’ me, you stupid little f**ker,” he mutters, stepping closer to me. I take a step back, wrinkling my nose at the strong scent of alcohol I smell on his breath. “Why are you here? Did they finally find something to pin this on you? Because we all know you did it. You killed my Krista.”
“I didn’t do it, sir,” I start but he interrupts me, cutting me off.
“Sir.” He spits the word out, like it’s a curse. “Aren’t you cute, trying to be all respectable and shit.” He grabs hold of the front of my shirt and jerks me close to him, his face in mine. “Give it up and tell the truth, boy. Tell them once and for all what you did to my girl and maybe then God can forgive you. Because I know I sure as hell can’t.”
He’s gonna hit me. Choke me. Something, I don’t know what, but he’s pissed off and looking for a fight. His fingers tighten on my shirt, pulling me even closer to him and I glance around, shocked but not really that no one is paying us any mind.