It’s been hours and I’m still in a jail cell. And it’s all my goddamn father’s fault.
God, Ihatehim.
Everything is all his fault.Everything.
I was so close to having everything exactly how I wanted it, but then he did what he always does and fucked it up.
“Ahhhhh!” I scream as loud as I can from my cell. “Let me out of here!”
I hear the pounding of footsteps and smile inwardly. It’s working.
“What’s wrong?” asks a young cop I’ve never seen before.
Doing my best to get the waterworks going, I sob, “I c-can’t be in here. I’m s-scared of small spaces.”
“You’re claustrophobic?” asks the other cop who joined him. A much older one.
“I am. I’ve always been a-afraid.” I sniffle and cover my eyes. It’s true, though. Ever since my pathetic excuse for a father had me locked up in the loony bin at age eight, where they housed me in a room that was, at most, five-by-five feet. I had a tiny cot and that was it.
“Can’t I wait out there?” I point in the direction they just came from. “I’ll apologize to my father. I was just upset. I didn’t mean to push him.”
“Miss…,” the older cop starts.
I think of something sad—you know, like me not being free—and the tears really start to fall. “I can’t be in here.”
With the voice of a man who actually cares about other people, the older man says, “Give me a minute, sweetheart. Let me see where we’re at on all of this.”
As the pair walk away, I can hear them. They’re arguing. The young guy thinks I should stay put, but the old one is 100 percent team Daisy.
It’s too bad fucking Gage isn’t. Where the hell is he, anyway? It’s been hours since he asked me if I had my father stop by my place that night.
God. This is all such a joke.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Gage
This probably won’t shock you, but I’m off the case. Not only am I off the case, but I’m on paid administrative leave as well. The captain told me to take a couple of weeks to “think about my priorities.” I’m not sure what he means.
Actually, yes I do.
He wants me to spend time pondering whether or not I want to be a cop.
It’s a good question. I mean, IthoughtI wanted to be a cop. I don’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t want to be an officer of the law. But now?
I’m not so sure.
To make matters worse, I wasn’t allowed to go back in to see Daisy, to explain why I was no longer able to help her with her father’s charge against her. Hell, even with him being questioned for the murder of Kara Becker, he still declined to drop it.
So now I’m home. I’ve changed into sweats, a tee, and a hoodie with the intention of going for a run, but I can’t seem to leave my house.
What if Daisy gets released?
She doesn’t have a key to my place. Not yet, anyway.
“Fuck.”
Pulling my phone out of my hoodie pocket, I shoot off a quick text. Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my keys and wallet and slip them in the front pocket along with my phone, and head out, leaving the front door unlocked in case Daisy returns. A run will clear my head, and there’s nothing I need more than that right now.
