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Chapter Four
Amelia
“How many times do I have to tell you this?” I groaned, rubbing the side of my head. It had to be at least three in the morning now, and instead of sleeping in my bed, I was sitting in an interrogation room at a Chicago police department.
“So you were looking for the restroom when you entered Mr. Mallory’s study?” asked the officer—Officer Tomato, I had taken to calling him in my head, since his face was bright red and his waist was as round as a globe.
“Ms. London?” he pressed.
“Yes. I entered the study while I was looking for the restroom, because I saw butterflies. He tried to rape me. Look at the marks on my neck. My boyfriend pulled him off me and then beat the shit out of him like a rapist deserves,” I said once again.
“What butterflies?” the officer asked.
Dear Jesus in heaven…
“Ms. London, your lawyer is here.” Another cop, Officer String Bean—not even going to bother explaining—opened the door. In came a woman dressed in a black jacket and jeans, her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail.
“I’m sorry, is my client under arrest?”
“No, but she is a witness—”
“Ms. London, let’s go,” the woman cut him off, motioning for me to get up.
“We aren’t done here!” Officer Tomato said as he rose.
“If my client isn’t under arrest, then we are finished,” she said, pushing me toward the doors. I only made it about two feet before stopping. There was Noah, laying down and looking far more relaxed than he should have been, in a holding cell.
“Noah—” I tried to move to him, but the lawyer I still didn’t know the name of grabbed my arm.
“We can’t stay.”
“I’m fine. I’ll be out in no time.” Noah sat up. Now focused on me, he gave me a half-assed smile, nodding for me to follow her.
“You’re going to need this,” the woman beside me said, digging into her briefcase and pulling out a light jacket and sunglasses.
“Amelia!” Ollie ran up to me as we reached the last set of doors between the jail and the front steps. He patted my shoulders. “Are you alright? What happened?”
“Excuse me. Sorry, but this isn’t the time. We need to get you out before more of the press descends down here,” the lawyer stated.
I put on the sunglasses she gave me, and Ollie took the jacket, lifting it over my head to block me as we started to head out. The moment the door opened, my ears felt like they were going to explode.
Click.
Flash.
“Ms. London, is it true you’re dating Noah Sloan?”
“Is Noah back on drugs again?”
“Is that why he savagely beat Mr. Mallory?”
Flash.
Click.
“What condition is Noah in now?”
They wouldn’t stop and even pushed so close to me that my elbows bumped their cameras. The closer we got to the car, the more we rushed. When the doors opened, I jumped in so quickly my shoe fell off.
