“Wait, let me exa—”
“Put your hands in the air right now, asshole!” his shaky voice demands. He isn’t going to believe a thing I say. His gun pointed right at my head, he comes closer, and I make a run for it down the hall. Seconds pass before I’m shoved to the ground, twisting so my elbow takes most of the fall. I let Phil go, but before I can check on him, I’m flipped to my chest, the cop digging his knee into my back. He’s not big. I could probably throw him off, but that would definitely scream guilty.
“I got him!” he yells, slapping the cold metal cuffs around my wrists. I don’t miss that feeling.
“I didn’t do it!” I grunt, his weight nearly crushing me.
I hear the footsteps before seeing the female cop come down the hall, her flashlight dancing around the floor and walls despite the lights on in the house. Her black boots stop inches from my face.
“We’ve got a body in the living room.”
“Says he didn’t do it,” the officer on my back informs.
He removes his knee from my spine and pulls me up to my feet, coming face to face with none other than Deputy Carly. All of five-foot-three, fierce eyes, and a grudge against everyone she went to high school with. She’s been after my father’s motorcycle club since she was given that fucking badge, and I can’t help but think it’s because I took her virginity in high school and dumped her.
“Sure he didn’t. Godric, I’m going to read you your rights.” She tucks her flashlight into her belt and grabs me by the arm. I tune her out, knowing the fucking mantra word for word. We enter the living room, and my stomach tightens as Bella’s body comes into view. I’ve seen dead bodies before, but this one just doesn’t sit well with me. The memory of what happened nudges at my mind but remains so far away at the same time.
“I always knew you were a monster,” she whispers. I don’t look up at her to see the judgement in her eyes.
Her words seep into my chest and wrap around my heart. I am a fucking monster. This whole fucking living room is proof of that.
“We need forensics down here now.”
“Then fucking do it already,” I sneer. Every second they waste, evidence slips through the cracks.
Her head snaps in my direction, her nostrils flaring. I don’t break eye contact. I’m not fighting the idea of bringing in someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing. I want to know what happened here too.
Did I kill my girlfriend?
An hour later, after sitting cuffed in the back of a cop car, my clothes taken, my mouth swabbed, my nails scraped, I await for what comes next. Leaning my head back on the hard plastic of the backseat, I close my eyes, trying to remember what happened. There’s only a haze of me sitting on the couch with Bella. I can’t see anything past that.
I’m going to go to prison for something I don’t remember.
Why don’t I remember?
The roar of motorcycles rattle the window, and I raise my head. Someone must have seen all the cops and called my dad. The club is here to save my ass. A sense of relief floods my limbs. I feel like I can finally breathe for the first time since I woke up on that floor.
Pulling up ahead, my dad parks his motorcycle. He’s tall and intimidating, his shoulders broad and skin fully tatted, not an inch of skin left uncovered. We have some cops in our pocket, but the ones we don’t will take one look at my father and go on a power trip. He could be in the back of this cruiser with me before this is over.
Dad gives me a hard look, and I stare back. Crossing his arms, he speaks to a cop on scene. Of course it has to be Carly. My father rubs at his beard, looking at the ground as he takes in what Carly is telling him. Shock hit his face at the exact moment she tells him I brutally killed my girlfriend.
“I’m getting you out of this, you understand?” he yells at me, eyes wide. I don’t reply. I don’t think he can help me. The blood on my hands is Bella’s. My hand on her shirt is hard to deny. The only thing left is the fucking murder weapon. Fuck if I know what it is. Or where it is. They keep ragging for me to tell them where I hid it.
Looking away from the reflection of flashing lights, I rest my head on the plexiglass and sigh. I’m thankful the club is here, but I’m not holding my breath they’re getting me out of these cuffs anytime soon. Bella isn’t a rival brother or gang member. She isn’t a fucking criminal cops are glad to see go away. And the cops in our pocket aren’t going to be able to work this.