Chapter 18 Past
My bare feet pressed against the cold floor as I stepped inside the sheriff’s office. The air around me had a slight chill to it, and the office smelled like a combination of body odor and cleaning supplies.
Insistent chatter, along with the occasional static of radios going off every few seconds, filled the clustered room, and as Sheriff Solo led me further into the large area – with a hand wrapped around my left arm – I noticed the quizzical glances the deputies gave me.
I realized that despite having seen a lot of weird shit in their line of work, they mustn’t have witnessed a teenage boy dressed like a girl as a prisoner.
I could only imagine the scenarios and assumptions they must have created in those bland little heads of theirs when I passed them by.
Their curious eyes travelled over me – amusement and confusion clear on their faces – which only made me chuckle.
I winked at a couple of deputies in the back, who scowled at me and got back to whatever it is they were doing before they decided to ogle me like I was a piece of evidence or something.
Assholes.
But I guess not everyone had the ability of showcasing empathy. Most people only see a person’s exterior and form a complete biography about them in their minds, but they fail to understand where that person is coming from.
As Sherlock Holmes, penned by Arthur Conan Doyle, had said: You see, but you do not observe.
That’s exactly what most people do. They see you, they judge you, and they form an opinion about you without you even having opened your mouth to explain yourself.
Such is life, I guess.
Sheriff Solo led me away from prying eyes, and towards a slightly darker and chillier part of the office. This room had cinderblock walls, a white tiled floor, and twice as many cameras as the ones in the main office.
There were two very large, very glaringly bleak-looking cells in there, and my skin pricked with goosebumps at the idea of having to be inside one of them.
A table with a computer and some other shit was set up in one corner, with a disgruntled looking deputy sitting behind it. It was clear by the curl of his top lip and his bunched-together brows that he wanted to be anywhere but in that confined space, and honestly, I could relate, because my
God, the stink in that room was appalling, at best. It was making me nauseous; making my damn nose burn. I was seconds away from heaving on the floor, and that says a lot, because I’m the kinda fucker who gets hard over the smell of blood.
Sheriff Solo stopped in front of the cell that was on the left side of the room, then let go of my arm and began unlocking it.
“We’ve got a full house tonight, kid, so you’ll have to adjust,” he said, then jerked his head toward the other cell, which was full of people I’d rather not share a close vicinity with.
Because of the damn smell, of course.
When I didn’t respond to him, the sheriff rolled his eyes, took the handcuffs off my wrists, and all but shoved me inside the surprisingly empty cell.
I turned, just as he shut the door and locked it with a resounding clank.
I wrapped my fingers around the bars and shifted on my feet. “So…this is goodbye, then,” I told him.
He let go of a tired breath and shook his head at me. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
I grinned. “Of course.”
He clicked his tongue, then swiftly glanced sideways before leaning close to the cell. “Gimme a few hours,” he whispered, and his expression softened as he smiled faintly. “I’ll be back for the two of you.”
I stared at him in confusion. “Wh–” I clamped my mouth shut when he gave me a quick nod and walked away from me before I could ask him what he meant.
Alright, then.
Sighing, I stepped away from the bars, and was about to sit down when a voice stopped me in my tracks.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I turned around so fast that I stumbled a little. My heart was in my fucking throat as I looked at the figure sitting opposite me – with the back of his head resting against the wall behind him, his knees folded and his forearms perched atop them, and a bemused smile playing across his young face.
No wonder Sheriff Solo had said he’d be back for the two of us.
“I may or may not have taken a piss on the floor over there just to annoy the in-charge outside,” the guy said to me.
I swallowed and straightened, then walked further into the cell. “You fucking scared me, man,” I told him.
He chuckled and raised his hands. “Sorry.” He then gestured at the empty space next to him. “Come, join me.”
“How chivalrous,” I quipped, then settled down next to him.
“I am, after all, a complete gentleman,” he said, and grinned when I looked at him.
Up close, I could easily see the bags under his brown eyes, the streaks of dirt on his jaw and neck; the holes and tears on his purple Henley and faded jeans. His hair was buzzed close to his scalp, and while that made him appear disheveled, his tone and posture were anything but.
“A gentleman who takes a leak on the floor just to rile a cop?” I asked.
“Obviously.” He gave me a once over, so I brought my knees up and wrapped my arms around them.
“Don’t fucking ogle,” I muttered, then looked around the cell.
The walls and floor were nothing but hard concrete. There was a metal pissing pot in one corner, a bunk bed in the other, and a sorry excuse of an air vent on the top left side of the cell.
“I’m not ogling,” the guy responded. “I’m…”
“Curious? Perplexed?” I provided, then looked at him again. “Amused?”
He searched my face for a moment, then shifted so that he could face me. “Why would I be amused?”
I shrugged. “I must look funny to you. A guy in a woman’s dress – arrested for Christ knows what.”
“I’m here too, y’know,” he countered.
“But you aren’t–”
“What, wearing a damn dress?” he said, cutting me off. “Doesn’t fucking matter, man. I’m not judging, so relax.”
I swallowed. “Sorry. I’m just…overwhelmed, I guess.”
“You look like you’ve been through a lot, so feeling what you are right now is valid as fuck,” he said, and my throat tightened at his words.
“That obvious, huh?” I snarked.
“You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
I chuckled. “Touché.”
“I’m Jayce,” he said, then offered me a hand.
I shook it, and grinned before saying, “Dorran.”
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Sixteen. You?”
“Nineteen,” he said. “So, Dorran,” he then added, “what the fuck did you do to get arrested? Because last I checked, having a bad sense of fashion isn’t reason enough to be behind bars.”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed. “You’re a smooth motherfucker, aren’t ya?”
“Helps me get a dick every once in a while.”
“You into guys?”
“Sure am,” he said with a grin.
“No wonder you were ogling me,” I teased, then raised a brow.
“Dude, trust me, if I wanted inside you, you’d already be on all fours, screaming my name.”
His words made me inhale sharply, and a chill crawled up my spine as memories of the last two years started resurfacing again.
Hands holding me down.
Hands pulling at my clothes.
Hands pressing my face against the wall.
The whispered insults. The cruel fucking. The punches that would send me reeling.
Mom’s lifeless eyes staring into nothing. Her blood on my hands, on my tongue. Her body pinned under mine. Her–
“Dorran?” Jayce’s voice sounded concerned. “Hey, buddy; what’s wrong?” He placed a hand on my shoulder and shook me slightly, making me jolt.
“Whoa.” His eyes widened as he stared at me. “You okay, man?”
I pushed my hair back and took a few slow breaths in an attempt to knock aside the vivid images in my head. “Yes,” I answered a bit hoarsely. “Yes, I’m…I’m fine, thanks.”
“Was it something I said?” he asked.
I swallowed again and gave him a nod. “Yeah, actually.” I then told him everything that’d happened to me ever since my dad’s passing – including that night’s events – and with every incident I relayed to him, Jayce’s demeanor crumpled further and further.
“Sooo,” he started once I’d finished, and lifted a shoulder. “You’re here because you well-deservedly killed a cold-hearted bitch who traumatized you for two fucking
years?” I expected him to be shocked or disgusted over the fact that I’d killed my mother, but instead, he was angry on my account, as if what I’d done made complete sense.
It did to me, of course, but I was glad I wasn’t the only one in thinking so.
“Yup.” I leaned back against the wall and stretched my legs out in front of me. “But I only gave the sheriff a brief overview of things, and didn’t go into any sort of detail like I did with you.”
“Well, you should have told him everything,” Jayce said.
“Did you tell him your story?”
“I did.”
“And did it make a difference?”
He shrugged. “Not exactly, but he at least knows the truth.”
I gesture at my outfit. “I’m pretty sure he got a proper picture of what was happening in my house before he arrived,” I stated.
“That, and I don’t think I’d have done a very convincing job of retelling everything like I did to you.
” I was quickly feeling at ease around Jayce, and that was both grounding and scary, because I’d never exactly had anyone in my corner until him.
He mirrored my position and stretched his legs out next to mine. “The truth doesn’t have to be convincing, Dorran,” he said. “The truth is the truth. It just is; it doesn’t have to be bounded by anything.”
He was right, of course.
“And you think Sheriff Solo is the kinda guy who’d see my truth for what it is?” I questioned.
“He is a human being, isn’t he?”
I smiled and glanced sideways at Jayce, who did the same to me.
“Touché,” I said for the second time that night, making him chuckle.
A comfortable silence filled the air after that, but to me, it was loud – too damn loud. I needed to keep my thoughts occupied until I felt sleepy or something, otherwise I’d be pulled back into the depthless pool that was my past.
I cleared my throat and nudged Jayce’s bare feet with mine. “So, why are you here?” I asked him.