AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Detective Lee?” I match his folded hands on the table. “You’ve spoken to Blake, right?”
“I have.”
I nod. “Then you know Blake is an arrogant prick with small-dick syndrome. Anyone could have wanted to torch his ass, not just me. We’ve only been dating for a little while, and honestly, I only dated him for the money.”
It’s not my best excuse, but everyone knows I’m broke as fuck. I can barely afford a combo meal at the drive-thru.
“So, you’re saying you didn’t want to harm Blake for cheating on you?”
I offer him a smile. “I would have pulled the covers back for them if they’d asked. I one thousand percent support Blake sticking his dick in shallow places.”
Disappointingly, Detective Lee doesn’t buy my happiness for the couple.
“Come on, Reese. This would go much faster if you were honest with me.”
Can’t a girl catch a break?
“I don’t understand why you don’t believe me.”
Surely, Detective Lee has dated someone just for the hell of it.
Well, maybe not, judging by the ring on his finger and his hand-pressed suit. Detective Lee is likely a good guy who follows the rules. Not like me, who hacks social media accounts to avenge a friend or gets passwords to a jerk’s Cash App to send a few charitable donations in their honor.
My actions are technically a crime, I get that. But I never take a dime of the money for myself. I help those like me—charity cases—go up against influential people like Blake. Everyone deserves justice, even the wealthy.
I’m sure Detective Lee could understand that, but he would suggest leaving it in the hands of the legal system. And I’ve tried that.
It didn’t work.
So, I took a page out of Van—
“If you didn’t set the fire, Ms. Carmichael, who did? Who would write the word betrayer in front of Blake’s tent if not you? Who else did Blake betray?”
It’s at this very moment that it all hits me.
Vengeance.
Van Gogh spared me the wrath of his flames. Instead, he’s taking everything I have in a different manner. Detective Lee would have done the same if he knew the truth. Van is handing me over to the law—allowing them to seek justice instead.
Fucking Van Gogh changed his trademark.
He won’t watch me burn.
Instead, he will frame me—punish me by the very thing that betrayed him.
The law.
My eyes fill with tears, but I don’t allow them to fall. Instead, I sit straight, clear my throat, and say, “I want a lawyer.”
Reese
I didn’t call my lawyer.
Instead, I left a message on my voicemail and told Detective Lee I was sure he would be on his way.
I can only hope that Blake or Van Gogh show some mercy and clear things up before I really need to call an attorney. Detective Lee hasn’t arrested me yet—which, I suppose, is a good thing, but then again, Van Gogh is no amateur when it comes punishment and criminalizing, if that’s an actual word. If he wants me locked up and charged, it will happen. No one escapes Van Gogh’s wrath—not even his muse.
“Ms. Carmichael.” The door to the interrogation room opens, revealing a tired and suddenly irritated Detective Lee. “Your ‘attorney’ is here.”
