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Not to mention empty.
A burst of panic fluttered in my chest and caused my heart rate to speed up.
I took a deep breath and stood, trying to calm myself down for the umpteenth time that night. I'd lost count of how many hours it had been since I'd been separated from Quinn.
The police station they had taken me to was twenty minutes away from the diner, and I made sure to keep track of the clock on the dash of the police cruiser. But even as I waited for hours on end, I hadn’t seen a single sign of Quinn since they threw me in here.
There hadn’t even been a second car following us.
I could feel myself on the verge of panicking. My breathing was getting shallower, and the feeling of my emotions billowing out, spreading me thin, pushing at the seams of my being, was beginning to get too much.
Keep it on lock. In and out. In and out.
Besides the single declaration that I was under arrest for killing my husband, there hadn’t been much else said to me. They didn't even read me my Miranda rights.
Every time I tried to call for someone, I was met with silence. On the off chance a cop passed by and I yelled for them, they would just yell back at me and tell me to shut up and sit back down.
I was starting to feel like the dream I had with some sort of premonition, warning me that the times I had with Quinn were about to be over.
“Fuck it all!” I growled and kicked at the bars.
“Hey! Keep it down in there!” a faceless guard yelled from down the hall.
His voice bounced off the walls, reminding me just how alone I was in there.
“This isn't right!” I yelled back, letting my anger and frustration get the better of me. “You and I both know that there are ways things like this are handled in this country. We have to keep people like me—”
“I told you to shut up!” he yelled back.
“Why don't you come make me?”
I didn't have it in me to regret what I said even as he stormed down the hallway.
“Listen here, you bitch—”
“You listen here,” I spat. As he stepped toward the cell, I took a step back. He fumbled for his keys, angrily trying to find the right one.
This was it.I could find a way out of this. If it was just this one single stupid cop, I could find my way out of this.
“There is a due process to this sort of thing. You can't justrandomlyarrest someone and throw them in a cell without even having a chance to call their lawyer.”
He let out a bitter laugh as he finally found one of the keys. “A lawyer? You really think you're gonna get a fucking lawyer here?”
“Clint,” another voice said from the end of the hallway. The policemen froze before looking down at the two other policemen that were storming down the hall.
Dammit, I cursed internally.I could take one stupid cop, I couldn't take three.
“We’ll take it from here,” the policeman said, sending a pointed glare at Clint. The other policemen said something and motioned for Clint to open the door. “Clint, you can help me.”
He seemed almost as surprised as I was to realize that both of them would be escorting me. It was obvious that there was something going on here. This wasn't a normal arrest, and my fate lies in the hands of these two.
I walked all the way back until my knees hit the stone bench I had been sitting on.
“Come on, let's get this over with,” the policeman barked, and they all filtered into my cell.
“Don'tyou touch me,” I growled. My protest didn’t stop them. They charged.
I tried to run forward, ducking under their hands, but there were too many clawing at me. I may have gotten under the second and the first, but the third was close behind, grabbing my wrists and forcing them behind my back.
