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“Archie,” I said.
“Pardon?”
I swallowed past the lump that had formed in my throat. “His name is Archie.”
“Okay. Archie. Can you tell me about him?”
More tears leaked from my eyes. “What do you want to know?”
He shrugged, the expression on his face impassive. “How did you know him?”
I didn’t know a whole lot about police procedure when it came to things like this. I knew what happened when I got arrested for some of the things I’d done with Archie and Garrett in the past, but this wasn’t anything like that. So, in this scenario, I had a feeling that some of these questions were unnecessary.
“My apologies, Detective, but I get the feeling you already know what my relationship with Archie was and how we were acquainted?”
“I’m trying to help you, Hanna. I know it probably doesn’t seem that way, but I am,” he insisted.
He was probably taught to say that. And considering his voice sounded sincere when he said it, I could see why some individuals might be compelled to believe him.
I didn’t believe him.
I was learning rather quickly that there weren’t many people I could trust at all.
I squeezed my eyes shut at that thought. From the moment I saw him pull up outside my place as I was hauled off into a police car, I’d been doing my best to try to forget Leo existed.
God, I had been such a fool.
“Do you have any other questions?” I asked Detective Morris.
“How about Jimmy Moss? Would you prefer to talk about him?”
At the mention of the man who’d repeatedly abused me, I felt anger seep in. It pushed out so much of the sadness I’d been feeling, and I wasn’t sure which was worse. Through gritted teeth, I seethed, “I’ve got nothing to say about him.”
Detective Morris cocked an eyebrow. “Nothing?”
“Not a word,” I clipped.
Detective Morris eyed me curiously in silence for several long seconds. Eventually, he said, “You know, some people might think that’s a lot of emotion to be holding on to for a dead man.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Jimmy Moss wasn’t a good man when he was alive,” I spat. “Then again, I’m learning rather quickly that there aren’t many men who are.”
“Is there someone else you’re angry at, Ms. Briggs?” Officer Hudson cut in.
I slid my eyes to his. “It’s Hanna.”
“And that’s not answering my question,” he noted.
I took in a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm myself down. When I realized it wasn’t going to make any difference, I fired back, “People get hurt by people all the time. It doesn’t mean that they wind up in the police station because of it.”
Both men sat back in their chairs and assessed me again. Detective Morris took over the questioning again. “So, this is about you being hurt?”
I pressed my lips together.
“How did Jimmy Moss hurt you, Hanna?” he asked.
I closed my eyes to keep the memories from invading.
Detective Morris continued to push me. “What did Xavier Pope do to you?”
