Page 34 of HateMates


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Chad hisses and says, “Flowers? Give me a break. Again, would I like to slide into that? Yeah. She’s an uptight cunt who can use a good pounding. But she ain’t worth flowers.” He starts to laugh.

I don’t realize I’m trembling until Tate’s breath warms my earlobe. “Don’t let it get to you.”

I shake my head. “It’s not,” I lie.

“If we pulled your credit or debit card charges from the past week, what would we find?”

“Do it and find out for yourself. Got nothing to hide.”

“Have you ever visited a flower shop? Like the one across from your apartment?” the detective continues.

Chad doesn’t answer right away. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“And when you maybe did, what did you purchase?”

“Daisies. Roses. I don’t know. I have a mother. She likes flowers. Doesn’t mean I’m a fucking rapist.”

The interrogation room door opens. An officer walks in, hands the detective a file, and walks out. Detective Rochel opens it briefly, then shuts it.

“Look,” Chad sits up, “I didn’t touch that cunt. Check out my alibi. I ain’t got nothin’ to hide. And unless you’re gonna arrest me for this dumb shit, I’ve got places to be.”

“If we have any other questions, we’ll be in touch.”

He smiles widely. “That’s what I thought. Maybe you should be questioning her. Women lie all the time about shit like this for attention. And she definitely loves it.” His eyes move to the mirror and lock on mine as if he can see me standing there. Then Chad gets up, and the detective escorts him out.

A minute later, the detective enters our side of the room. “How are you doing, Miss Parks?”

“Fine.” I straighten my posture. “Do you think he’s lying?”

My shoulders deflate at the look in his eyes. “My guess is he’s telling the truth, but we’ll send an officer out to the diner to confirm his alibi.”

Fuck. Fuck! “If it’s not him, who is it?” I ask, unable to hide the anxiousness in my voice. “And why did no one tell me the cameras weren’t working that night? What’s the fucking point of having cameras if they aren’t on to catch something like this?”

“Mindy.”

I slap Tate’s hand away. “No. This is ridiculous. So, what now? Was he your only lead? Do you think I’m lying? That I made this up? Choked myself? Bashed my head against a brick fucking wall for fucking fun?”

“Mindy—”

“No! It’s been five days. You’re the police! It’s your job to catch who—!”

“Mindy! Fuck, chill.”

I snap out of my hysteria and look up at Tate. “No.Youfucking chill. If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the bathroom.” I take two steps before whipping back around to Tate. “And don’t even think about following me.”

I storm out of the room and down the hall, spinning when someone calls out that the bathroom is the other way. Once I’m locked inside a stall, I let my head fall back against the metal divider. “Fuck.” When did my life become such a disaster?

The night your parents died.

This is not how things were supposed to be. My eyes close, and I blink back tears, focusing on breathing in and out until I calm down. Chad’s words swirl around in my head, but I push them away. I’m not the person he says I am. Anger floods my system as I wipe an errant tear from my cheek. “I am not this person.” One last big inhale, and I pull myself together.

When I exit the bathroom, Tate is leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, expression blank. Like always. Ignoring him, I walk down the hall toward the exit, head down the station stairs, and take a left onto the sidewalk.

“Where you going?”

“Away from you. And don’t follow me.”

“Get in the car, Mindy.”

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