Page 123 of Saints & Sailors

“It’s not up to you, Mr. St. Julien,” Mr. Hughes stepped in.

“Saylor, we’re taking you to the station,” Rick said as he came closer. “We’re placing you under arrest.”

My lips trembled as I hiccupped on a sob. “But…Scott…?”

Rick grimaced at the sight of me nearing a breakdown. “He’ll meet us at the station.”

“Rick—”

“Dreux, there is nothing you can do for her,” Rick snapped as his head whipped in Dreux’s direction.

Bonham stood glowering between Rick and Mr. Hughes. “How do you even know if it’s hers?”

Rick rolled his eyes. Having had enough, he came and helped me stand. He pressed his hand to the small of my back and ushered me toward the door to leave.

My legs were unsteady and I couldn’t see through my blurry vision. “Please.”

Another officer beat us to the door and opened it as Rick led me out into the hall. Students were going to and from class, but they stopped to see the show. Lining up on either side of the hall, it was my very own walk of shame as we parted down the middle.

I couldn’t remember the last time I cried, but as Rick recited my Miranda rights and I was blinded by the flashing of cameras, I sobbed like a baby.

hour one

They took my fingerprints and my mugshot down at the precinct. Being that Meadow Grove wasn’t a large city, there wasn’t much going on that Monday morning as they brought me in and ran through their intake process.

The woman at the front desk was playing a game on her cell phone while she listened to a podcast on the speaker across from her.

The station was small, with an open floor plan. Beyond the front desk, there were four other large metal desks in the front room spread out with two on each side. A few officers, who seemed about Rick’s age, were at their desks talking and joking around. One was leaned back with his feet on his desk as he spoke to another officer who was seated on the corner listening intently with a wolfish grin on his face.

The air was chilled from a series of ceiling fans, but I felt numb. I could hardly hear what the woman was saying as she walked me through the steps of intake.

It didn’t matter in the end. After gathering all of my personal information, including my civilian clothes and swapping them in for a beige sweatsuit, they took my cell phone and Rick brought me through a thick security door that revealed a corridor where all the holding cells were.

I had hit rock bottom.

Ten minutes after Rick had left me in my cell, he was back with Scott. He was still in his blue Marty’s polo and khakis.

“Saylor!” Scott rushed over and clutched the bars on the door, staring at me incredulously.

Slowly, I stood, feeling every bit of shame weighing my shoulders down. “Hey, Scott.”

Rick let us into a private room where there was only a single table and two chairs. By the large mirror stretching across the wall behind the scene, I guessed this was an interrogation room. The camera high up in the corner all but confirmed it.

I faced Rick. “I don’t get to go home?” Of course Scott’s arrival wouldn’t make this easy, but hope was all I had.

Rick frowned and Scott hung his head. “You have to stay here for at least forty-eight hours until you go before a judge.”

Sensing the heaviness of the moment, Rick gripped the knob. “I’ll let you two have a second.”

He shut the door and Scott and I gravitated over to the table. Him on one side and me on the other.

At once he took out his cell phone. “I…I have to call your mother.”

I reached out toward him, too afraid to touch him. “Please, you have to believe me. I didn’t do this.”

Scott’s brown eyes found mine. I had his eyes, his love for rock music, and his wild and rebellious spirit. In the short time that we’d known each other, I’d come to learn and revel in the fact that I was my father’s daughter.

But I had been nothing but wrong from the start, and I wasn’t sure if enough time had passed for him to trust me and know when I was telling the truth.