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“Mr. Miller, would you please follow me.” He motions to the back and I start walking, my dad hot on my heels. “I’m sorry, sir, you will not be able to come with us into questioning today.”

“And why is that? Is my son under arrest?” My father’s voice bounces off the walls, filling the small space.

“Not at this moment, but I do, however, have a warrant to collect a DNA sample, which I will be doing.”

“DNA sample? For what? He didn’t fucking rape her.” My father expels anger coating his words.

“We have someone that’s come forward stating this isn’t the first time you’ve done something of this nature. The second girl has come out and said you sexually assaulted her. She went to a hospital for a rape kit which came back positive.”

My pulse quickens, my stomach twisting into a tight knot. I’m being set up…there is no other way to explain why this is all being put on me. I’ve never had sex with a woman more than once, and I never take from someone who isn’t willing. Never. I might have hurt Jules, but there is a fine fucking line between raping someone who doesn’t want you and recording something without their knowledge.

“What?” I growl. “That’s ridiculous. Why would you even accuse me of something so disgusting? I would never do that.”

The detective stares me straight in the eyes as he speaks, “Because the girl specifically named you. Miss Layla Hart, does her name happen to ring any bells, Mr. Miller?”

My lip curls, my veins fill with ice. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

For the next few hours, I’m questioned by the same two detectives that questioned me the first time. Someone comes in and swabs the inside of my cheek for DNA halfway through. I don’t know how many times they ask me the same questions over and over again. They want to break me down, get me to confess but there isn’t shit to confess to.

After a while, I just try to drown them out. I think about my father’s face when they accused me of rape. I know he didn’t want to believe it, but when I looked into his eyes, I could see the doubt plaguing him. I want to be mad at him for not believing in me, but how can he after all of the things I’ve done. After the ways I’ve disappointed him. All evidence is pointing toward me so I can’t really blame him for doubting me. If I didn’t know for a fact that I wasn’t that kind of man, I would doubt myself.

I refused a lawyer hours ago. I didn’t see the point. They can’t make me confess to something I didn’t do and there is no evidence that I did anything, because it didn’t happen.

“Okay, Mr. Miller, that’s all the questions we have, for now. You’ll be hearing from us soon though,” the detective says, clearly unhappy about the outcome.

I don’t care about his fucking feelings. I’m out of the room and down the hall before they can change their minds and lock me up in one of these cells. When I get to the little waiting area in the front of the station, I realize that my dad is no longer here.

I walk out of the station, hoping he might be outside, but after looking everywhere possible, I don’t see him. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to me that he left, still, it stings. People have a tendency of leaving me and this is just another reminder of that. Anytime you need someone they aren’t there, or at least that’s how it is with my family.

I take out my phone to dial my dad’s number, but I can’t make myself push the call button. I decide to run back to campus, it doesn’t really matter since I’m still in my workout clothes anyway. It’s only about five miles give or take, so I should be there in less than an hour. I start jogging, but it quickly turns into a full-blown run, and I pick up speed with every stride. My lungs burn, but it’s a good burn, one that makes me feel like I can finally breathe. At least I can still control my body, because fuck if I don’t have control over anything else right now, most of all my emotions, my life. And as I run, running like I’m trying to outrun all the misfortunes that are taking place in my life right now, I ask myself how we got to this point…

How did my life get so fucked up?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jules

As soon as Sebastian enters my room, I know something is up.

He has a nervous look on his face, a look that’s borderline terrified. Without even knowing it, I can tell he’s about to tell me something that I’m really not going to like.

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