But as the two officers stare me down, the weight of all the warnings I’ve been given about the local police looming right above them, I wonder if I can trust anything they’re saying. My father just took out the central figure of the Jameson Automobile Company…the town’s livelihood. Leaving everything in the hands of Emmett…a teenage boy.
If they have any inkling at all that he’s responsible for Thomas’s death, they might be eager to take him down. I know my father has contacts in the police, but I’m clueless as to how far his reach extends.
“Do you know where your father is right now?” they ask bluntly.
“I have no idea,” I reply, once again grateful that I am telling the truth.
“I understand,” he says again, only this time he seems to know there is more that I’m not saying. “Listen, you’ve had a hard day, I’m sure. We don’t want to keep you any longer. But could you do us a favor and let us know if your father tries to contact you?”
“Why?” I protest, not wanting to commit to that position. “You said he was investigated for those crimes. But that doesn’t mean he’s guilty, right? Is he wanted for arrest or anything?”
“Nothing quite like that,” he answers with a cocky grin. “We just want to let you know…if he pops up again…you can come to us. It might be in your best interest to keep us informed of any communication. To protect yourself.”
“So…we’re done here?” I ask, already posed to exit. I feel like I’m lost in a minefield. One wrong word and the whole thing will blow up in my face. This was supposed to be a simple statement. Not an interrogation about my father, and I have no idea who to trust.
“For now,” he leans back smugly, pressing a button that sparks a buzz and shoots my escape door open.
“Thanks,” I huff as I bolt for the door. I start marching through the winding halls back out into the lobby. I need to be outside and free. My heart is still pounding in my chest, and I desperately need to run far away from here.
I walk down the sidewalk away from the police station, trying to add everything up in my head. The police can’t be trusted. I don’t know who is on my father’s side and who isn’t. I don’t know who is playing for the old gang of Elites and who is rooting for whatever is on the horizon for Jameson Automobiles. I definitely don’t know where Emmett stands in all of this.
My walk turns into a sprint the moment I’m back in a residential area. I decide to run home. I need it. I don’t even care that it’s starting to rain.
I haven’t been running for long when I hear footsteps plodding up from behind. I glance over my shoulder to see Emmett racing behind me.
“Ophelia!” he calls out breathlessly. “Can I talk to you? Please!?”
I don’t answer. He is the last person I want to talk to. But with him following behind, I don’t want to go home. I don’t ever want him in my house again. So instead I keep running.
He keeps stride with me, holding back by just a few feet. His stalking presence makes me feel like I am being held against my will, hitting the nerves of trauma from everything I experienced when I was being held hostage. All that his father did to me.
Every sudden movement startles me, my brain jumping back to the abuse I endured at the hands of the Elites, Emmett and his father. It just makes me run harder as the rain pours down around us.
We run like that for miles before finally stopping in a parking lot. I buckle over, resting my palms to my knees as I catch my breath.
I notice clumps of feathers scattered across the ground nearby, sticking to what remains of a dead bird. I have to laugh to myself, thinking it’s a fitting representation of my life right now. Pieces of me still sticking around but maimed beyond recognition. All I can do now is try to reassemble the pieces, and I can’t do that with Emmett around.
“Ophelia, please,” he pleads between gasps for breath. “Can’t you see now? I’m one of the good guys. I’m on your side.”
“Are you fucking kidding me!?” I fire back with an angry laugh. “Is that why you beat me? Threatened me? Humiliated me? What was your excuse for all of that!? That was long before you supposedly started working with my father.”
“I had to,” he defends softly, his eyes glinting with regret. “I had no choice. As far as I could see, my father was going to get away with everything and be fine. I couldn’t go against him or the other Elites.”
“And you and Vivian?” I shoot back, still unconvinced of a single word and rapidly piling on more offenses in my memory. “What was all that about?”
“At first I didn’t know any better,” he defends adamantly. “I mean, it’d make sense for Vivian and me to be together. It’s practically an arranged marriage with the way our families are. But then I met you…”
“You met me, and you continued seeing her…flaunting it in my face,” I argue, still somewhat in disbelief that I’m even worried about his relationship status with everything else he’s done.
“Vivian knew I had a thing for you,” he explained, flailing his arms in the air. “If I had broken up with her she would have told everyone it was because of you. I would have been blacklisted. If my own father didn’t kill me for thinking I was in cahoots with you and your father, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to help your dad. We’d probably both be dead right now.”
“I’ll never be able to forget the ways you’ve treated me,” I continue, unmoved. Shaking my head at the memories flashing through my mind. “Then you sided with my father to get what you wanted. For all I know, you’re still working for him. It’s unforgivable.”
“I had to, Ophelia,” he continues pleading. “If you just give it some time…I think you’ll understand that I had to. I had no choice.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe small parts of his behavior will seem better once I’ve had some time to think. But there’s too much of it staring me right in the face. The way he roughed me up with the other Elites. Sexually humiliated me. Acted like Vivian’s little puppet and did nothing to stop my torture.
“Please let me try and make it up to you,” he asks softly with a painful sincerity.