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She couldn't stay in thelobby.
Yet returning to her condo terrifiedher.
She wastrapped.
It was Trevor who made the decision on their nextmove.
"We need to get out of this lobby. Let's go back upstairs," heinsisted.
Another cop answered, "The forensic team is still up there working. We can't contaminate thescene."
"Bullshit. We can't stay here. We're sitting ducks for the media." While the police hem-hawed, Trevor turned his back to the front door and started shuffling Khloe towards the elevator. Her mind revolted at the thought of returning to her now soiled apartment, but shouts of her name from bystanders outside urged her into the elevator when the doors opened. Uniformed officers piled in around her and Trevor until she was pressed into the corner. Only Trevor's wall of muscles helped her fend off the claustrophobic panic attackthreatening.
She put one foot in front of the other, in a trance, until she got to the threshold of her open door. The yellow and black 'Crime Scene' tape prevented her entry. A half dozen officers were mingling in her kitchen and living room, looking like they'd moved in. The flash of a police camera made herflinch.
Trevor seemed to understand, leaning in to talk softly against her ear. "It'll be okay, Khloe. I won't leave yourside."
Her fear was obviously transparent to everyone around her as many pairs of eyes turned towards the celebrity in the room, pity shining bright and she hatedit.
Ignoring the warning, Trevor reached to pull the tape away from the doorjamb to allow their entry before leading her to the leather couch near the sliding glass door to the balcony. Before she sat down, a cop warned them, "Don't touch anything if you can help it. We're sweeping your home forfingerprints."
Her guard left her long enough to retrieve a bottle of cold water from her refrigerator, returning and asking her to drink. She'd put the bottle down on the glass-topped coffee table in front of her when a police officer wearing a full-body white protection suit over his street clothes and blue latex gloves stepped into the living room. In his protective clothing, he looked like he'd come straight from the set of a sci-fi movie about a contagious epidemic. The seasoned-looking cop glanced around the crowded space until his eyes met with Khloe. Her pulse increased when he started walking towards her, but her heart lurched when she saw what he held in hishand.
She recognized the purple panties through the plastic baggie with the huge EVIDENCE splashed across the label. The forensic officer stopped to chat with the captain before approaching Trevor and Khloe where theysat.
"Good evening, Ms. Monroe. I'm Officer Effingham. I'd like to ask you a few questions if Imay."
He may have asked politely, but the stern look in his eye told her he wasn't really asking for permission to interrogate her further. She managed to nod her reluctantapproval.
Khloe used her acting skills to avoid reacting when he held out the plastic bag that held her soiledpanties.
"We found these mixed in with your bed sheets. Do these panties belong toyou?"
"Yes."
"We're going to send them to the lab for processing with the rest of the evidence, but would you mind sharing with us whose semen ispresent?"
Her heart lurched and she felt Trevor stiffen beside her. "Actually, I wouldmind."
"I'm sure you understand we're trying to help you, Ms. Monroe. Avoiding simple questions isn't going to help us solve who broke into yourhome."
There was nothing simple about his question. An irrational anger took hold of her at Ryder that he wasn't there to help defend why the fuck his cum was in her bed months after he'd desertedher.
The cops near enough to have heard the question stopped to stare, waiting on her answer like they had a right to know jack shit about her sexlife.
The cop pressed. "Was your boyfriend hereearlier?"
Why the hell does he think she has a boyfriend? Ah yes, the lovelymedia.
Realizing the cop would out-wait her, she finally folded to answer with a simple, "No."
"Then..."
She cut him off. "It was from earlier, okay?" she replieddefensively.
"Tonight?"
"This isn'timportant."
