Page 79 of Love Me
“Because Gabriel Harris and Amber Thorn didn’t return home Halloween night,” the detective had said.
I’d looked from the detective to the sheriff and my stomach had felt like it had dropped from a ten-story building. “Like I said. I didn’t see them that night.”
“You’re lying?” Sheriff McAllister had snarled.
“I would like to leave,” I had said.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he had said, standing from the interrogation table.
“Are you detaining me?” I had asked, standing as well. “If so, what for?”
The sheriff had ignored me, and he and the detective had headed for the door.
“I want to call my lawyer,” I had said to their backs.
The detective had looked to the sheriff nervously, but neither had said anything else as they’d left the room.
That had been what felt like hours ago. No one had returned since. I had to pee and I was thirsty and freezing. I swore they had the air conditioning turned on full blast and, because I had nothing else to do but listen, I knew it had been flowing through the vents nonstop. All I was wearing were jean shorts and a thin top, which did very little to keep me warm. I tried pacing the small room for a while to warm up. It didn’t really work.
Shivering, I sat curled up with my knees tucked to my chest in a chair and I did the only thing I could do. Wait.
My eyes felt as though they had just closed when I heard the door open. Sheriff McAllister walked in and shut the door behind him. Just seeing him put me on edge, but as I watched him move through the room over to the camera up in the corner, fear shot through me like lightning, spreading far and wide. He reached up behind it and pushed it to face the wall.
I stood stiffly, kicking the chair back in the process. My mind raced. I could see what he intended. It was written all over his face—the rage, the need for violence. I was trapped in a room with a man twice my size who was going to hurt me.
He moved toward me, and I ran for the door, screaming. Of course, it was locked. I continued to scream, pounding on it, knowing he was coming. Seeing him in my peripheral vision, I stopped what I already knew would be a useless attempt to get someone to help me and spun, throwing my leg out. I caught him off guard as planned and kicked him right in the stomach.
He grunted as he hunched over. I went to run past him, intending to run to the other side of the room to plan my next move. His hand shot out and caught me by my arm. I grabbed his hand that held me and kicked him again, this time in his knee. It buckled, bringing him down to my height. Twirling into his hold, I rammed my elbow down where his shoulder and neck met.
His fingers slipped from my arm as he let out a roar. I took that opportunity to run. I made it one step before I was slowed by my shirt. He had managed to catch the bottom of it. I tried to keep going. The thin material ripped all the way up the back to the collar as I put a little bit of distance between us. Not that it did any good. He leapt for me, tackling me. Instead of us going down to the floor, which was what I would have preferred, he propelled me toward the wall. I slammed into it first and his whole body barreled into me next. My cheek smacked and ground against the cold brick wall and all the air was knocked out of my lungs when he crushed me.
Because I’d cushioned his fall, he recovered quicker and grabbed me by my wrist and hair. He twisted my arm behind my back, making me scream. He pulled me from the wall, dragged me to the table, and bent me over it. I tried to catch myself with my free hand to lessen the impact of my face and chest on the interrogation table, but my weak arm was nothing compared to his strength. I slammed into the table with enough force my lips split against my teeth.
“Fucking little bitch!” he yelled. His tight grip on my hair disappeared and pain exploded through my back. He’d punched me in the kidneys. I gasped and my bloody spit sprayed the table. “Because of you, everything is fucked.” He twisted my arm higher up my back and I screamed myself hoarse.
“Where are they?” he demanded. “Where is my nephew and Amber?”
“I don’t know,” I said as tears filled my eyes.
“Don’t play dumb. I know they chased you through the woods. My daughter told me. They went after you and never came back. You did something to them. You did or he did.”
“I didn’t do anything to them.”
“What the hell is going on in here?” an authoritative voice said.
The sheriff pushed away from me quickly. “Attorney General.”
Without him pinning me to the table, my weak body slid to the floor. Lying there on the cold ground, I felt too stunned and too hurt to move.
“Jesus, Shiloh!” I heard Ian say, followed by shoes slapping on the floor. Hands grabbed me and I was rolled over to face him. Ian was kneeling next to me, his eyes wide. “What did you do to her?” he demanded and looked up at Sheriff McAllister.
“She attacked me.” The sheriff only had eyes for the man in an expensive suit who was holding the interrogation room door open. He was a short man, but that didn’t take away from the importance he gave off.
“She’s a third of your size, Steven,” the man said, clearly not believing a word. He looked toward Ian and me. “There’s a hospital next door. Is she well enough to walk there or do I need to call EMS?”
Ian looked back at me. “Can you sit up?”
I nodded and sat up, then got to my feet with Ian’s help. I had to hold my shirt up to keep it from falling off. During the struggle, the rest of it must have ripped. My entire back was exposed, along with the lime green and black Riddler bra I had on.