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They want to know who stabbed that girl.
They want to know what happened to the dead man in the water.
They want to know if we know anything about the masked man.
They want as much information on the slasher as possible, though there’s nothing to give.
No one knows anything.
No one except for me.
I can’t give any good evidence, except for the fact that he knows how to blow my mind.
That won’t help them in their investigation, and though I want the murders to end, I selfishly don’t want him to get caught, because I don’t want him to go away.
I want him to stay. Forever.
I bite my lip so I don’t groan, staring at the man who looks too tired and too old to be interviewing me at four in the morning.
I haven’t slept, and I’m fucking exhausted.
“Can I see Reign?” I ask, so desperate to talk to him. To explain. Though I have no idea what I’d even say if given the chance.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Mr.Whitmoreis being detained and was rather aggressive. He will not be having any visitors at the moment.”
My palms go to the table, and I grip the edge tightly. “He didn’t do anything. That officer—”
He waves his hand in front of me, cutting off my words. “We won’t be discussing Mr. Whitmore anymore. I do have some questions for you, though, Miss Ashford.”
I lean back in my chair, my insides twisting in discomfort. “I don’t have any information.”
He tilts his head to the side, grabbing a pad of paper and a dull pencil, the eraser completely worn down to the metal. He taps it against the yellow paper a few times before writing down today’s date.
“On the contrary. I think there are a lot of things you can help me with, Lakyn Ashford. For instance, there seems to be a lot of death surrounding you, and I think if we connected the pieces, we could get to the bottom of it. What do you say, willing to help?”
Oh, shit. This guy wants me to be Velma fromScooby-Dooor something.
I shake my head, cringing a bit. “Sorry, not my thing.”
He huffs out a laugh. “This isn’t an option of whether or not you’re going to cooperate, Lakyn. You no longer have your father here to pay off the department in keeping your secrets buried.”
I blanch, feeling the blood drain from my face.
He leans forward, as if I’ve just given him the bone he’s so desperate for. “That’s right. We know all about the secrets you hide. Do you think we don’t know about what happened last year?”
I keep my face blank, though my insides are roaring, a beast of a fire lighting inside of me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He tilts his head, looking cocky as hell. “You know nothing about Zane? What happened to him, the murder, the disposing of the body? You were just there, and then poof, you were gone. I have a hard time believing you had nothing to do with it.”
I push my chair back, instantly hitting the wall.
This room is a damn jail cell.
“You aren’t going anywhere, Lakyn. We aren’t finished with this conversation,” he says calmly.
I narrow my eyes. “That’s where we fucking differ, because I’m done with this conversation.”
He sets his pencil down, and it tumbles off the pad, making a rattling noise as it rolls toward the edge of the table. His hand grabs it at the last moment, and he holds it tightly in his grip. “We can play it two ways, Miss Ashford.”
