My body went rigid. “No,” I almost yelled. I exhaled and lowered my voice. “He tried to attack me the last time I saw him. Please, don’t put me in a room with him.”
“You were my girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend.”
“He tried to rape you?” Suarez asked, a trace of gentleness in his tone.
I dipped my chin.
“No, I didn’t. We couldn’t have sex in the car.”
I inhaled and willed myself to keep calm. “You tried again when you shoved inside my apartment.”
“Digit, take him to the garage,” Suarez said.
Relief rolled over me like a gentle wave.
Suarez continued, “Eightball, go to LaTrease’s room with her until I call you in.”
Digit had wrapped a hand around Porter’s bicep.
Porter glared at me. “Lying bitch.”
Nate took me to a room with a twin bed and Bluey decorations.
“He has a kid?” I asked.
Nate stared at me for a moment. “LaTrease does,” he whispered.
This room wasn’t far from the one we’d just left. The murmur of voices rose.
“Tobias broke in, not me!” Brantley yelled.
“That doesn’t sound good,” I muttered.
“No,” Nate whispered.
His phone vibrated with a notification. He glanced at the screen. “Shit. All right, I gotta get back in that room, but I have to tie your hands.”
My eyes slid to the side even as I held my wrists together. “Can you not, and just say you did?”
“Hey, look at me.”
I met his brown-eyed gaze.
“Not gonna tie them tight. You pull on the end, it’ll come undone. Just try not to do that in front of anyone.”
He told no lies, and wound a rope around my wrists, not too tight and did it in what I considered to be record time. Then he was gone.
I debated whether to sit on the bed, one of the kid-sized chairs, a beanbag, or just plant my ass on the floor. Part of me wanted to lay down on the bed, but I hated the idea of a little kid finding me in their bed. Like a messed-up version of Goldilocks.
The beanbag looked inviting, but would be a bitch to get out of in a hurry if someone stormed in here - or worse, if Porter found his way in here.
There was a small window near the bed. I moved the blinds to see what was outside. The window was covered by security bars. On closer inspection, even if I opened the window quietly, I wouldn’t be able to get past the bars without someone hearing me.
I went to the door, and tried the knob. It was locked. With another look at the handle, I saw it had been turned around, and I’d been locked in from the outside.
Who did that to a kid?
