20. Char
CHAR
My ass grew numb against the seat again as I sat there, wasting my life away.
I grew dizzy from the lack of nourishment.
My tongue felt heavy like lead, but dry like cotton.
Maybe I’d die in that cell. Maybe that was the relief I’d have to seek out for myself.
Maybe this didn’t have an ending. Maybe this was just a transition period into another part of my life.
I really have to get out of here. It’s warping my mind.
As if God had a sense of humor, the big metal door crashed open. And it didn’t take a genius to know who came for me. The click of her heels had nothing on the fact that I practically smelled the smoke of anger coming from her nostrils as she panted for air with every step she took.
I expected her to say something.
I braced myself as her heels stopped outside my cell.
“All right,” she hissed as she wrapped around in front of me, “let’s play a little game, shall we? Since you’re so fond of games.”
She placed her hands on her knees and dipped down into my face. I didn’t give her the pleasure of looking her in her eyes, though.
I just stared at her big ass nose.
“Why don’t we play the game where I just figured out you’ve got more secrets to hide, which I can use with my commander as viable proof that this little charade you’ve got going on?
Nothing but a charade. You’ve officially overstepped, Miss Char, and you’re going to figure out just what kind of a bear I can be in court. Now come here.”
The last three words she spoke were practically a growl, and I was shocked when she reached her hand out. She wrapped her fingers into my hair, yanking my head off to the side.
“Ah!” I exclaimed.
She ripped me up by my scalp and pressed her lips to my ear. “At least we know you make some sort of sound now.”
“No! Let me go!” I yelped.
She tossed me out of my holding cell and I stumbled, crashing to the unforgiving concrete floor. My nose fell into a spot that smelled of nothing but piss and regret, and I gagged before I felt a hand grip the back of my neck.
“No! Help! Sheriff, help me!” I shrieked.
“There’s no one to help you now,” she glowered as she yanked me back up.
“Ah! Fuck!”
Her nails raked along the skin of my scalp as tendrils of hair popped from my skin. I fought against her every step of the way, trying to get out of her grasp.
“Nielson! Carlyle! Someone help me!”
But Marcie robbed me of my voice when she slammed me against another holding cell door, effectively knocking the wind out of me.
“Oh—my—God—” I choked out in between gasps.
My eyes filled with tears as Marcie tilted her head. “Where did you get them?”
I shook my head as tears spilled down my face.
“Stop with the fake tears and answer me!” Marcie bellowed.
She grabbed my shirt and slammed me against the wall once more. It knocked the wind out of me again, only after I just caught it, and my vision tunneled.
“I—can’t—breathe—” I choked out as tears spilled onto my chest.
“Someone—” I said breathlessly, “—help me.”
Marcie picked up my dead weight as my lungs cried out for mercy.
My brain felt like it was hemorrhaging. Jesus Christ, how the hell did I ever survive always having the wind knocked out of me as a kid?
I struggled to keep my feet on the ground as Marcie ripped me up, placing my back against those filthy fucking bars.
She cupped her hand over my mouth.
My eyes darted around. There had to be a camera somewhere. There was no way in hell that someone didn’t have eyes on her. Could anyone even hear me? Did anyone see what was happening? This had to be illegal as fuck.
Right?
“Special Agent Dickerson!” someone exclaimed.
My legs grew weak, like the bones in them completely evaporated. I finally caught my breath, but not quickly enough. Because as Marcie dropped her hand away from my mouth, the voice calling for her mounted.
“Marcie! We need you out here! We have questions!”
I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face, and the way Marcie’s eyes lit up with anger brought me a disgusting amount of satisfaction.
“You’ll never get away with it,” she snarled as she glared at me with fire in her eyes. “Whatever you’re doing, whatever you’re pulling, I’ll make sure you never, ever get away with it.”
“Let her go!” Carlyle yelped.
That spindly little man charged Marcie, and before I knew it, her hands were removed from my clothing.
That compact little man with twigs for arms and green beans for legs locked that bitch in a headlock and held out for dear life.
Marcie bucked like a bronco bull as I slid to the floor.
I gasped for air, clutching my chest as tears spilled down my face.
It was all too much. This was too much, and all I wanted was to go home.
“You’re, ugh, coming with me,” Carlyle grunted as he tugged Marcie toward the holding cell door.
“You’ll never get away with this!” Marcie exclaimed as she donkey-kicked her legs into the air. “I will figure out what you guys are doing and put you away for it!”
“Special Agent Dickerson!” the commander bellowed as Carlyle finally got her out that fucking door. “Compose yourself!”
That man’s booming voice stopped everyone in their tracks.
In fact, it kind of reminded me of Deacon.
Oh God. Deacon. Dallas. Gauge. I missed my boys more than I could stand.
I curled my knees into my chest and placed my face into them.
My entire body vibrated with fear and uncertainty as I sat there on the holding cell floor, wanting nothing more than to go home.
“Hey there, Char, I gotcha,” Nielson said softly as he crouched down to face me. “Why don’t you come with me?”
I slowly peeked up at him with red, watery eyes. “I just want to go home. When can I go home?”
Mercy dripped over his features as he slipped out of his jacket.
He tossed it over my shoulders, making sure it sat securely over me to cloak me away from the world.
One of his arms came around my back, and I swear to God, my body screamed for joy as it levitated.
He situated me on top of that paunchy little gut of his, and I was back to being eight years old and sick.
With my father carrying me up the steps to tuck me in bed.
“Is she okay?” I heard Commander Hadley ask.
I flinched closer to Nielson as I pulled his jacket over my face.
“Let me ask you something,” Nielson said as he stood his ground, “is this how you treat all of your cases? Because if it is, I see why you guys aren’t welcome wherever you go, if this is how it works.”
“She’s lying,” Marcie hissed. “She’s faking all of this. She’s not insane. She hasn’t lost her mind. She’s just trying to get herself out of the mess she’s gotten herself into because she doesn’t know how to fall in with the right crowd!”
I didn’t realize that woman was so close to us, and my body reacted.
I didn’t even have to force it to react.
It simply… did. I had no clue what that meant for me, or why it was now an automatic reaction.
But the second she spoke, my body quivered.
More involuntary tears snaked their way down my face.
“Wait, what?” Nielson asked.
“What did you just say?” the commander asked.
I felt Marcie’s tone dripping with disdain as she continued to speak. “Like I said, Commander, she’s our in to the guys who killed Murphy.”
The commander paused. “Does she have anything to do with Captain Murphy’s death?”
Marcie didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely. She’s close with the men who killed him. The men who sold him those guns for all this time. She knows about the men who made him dirty, Commander.”
And there it was. The reason for all of this. Her get-out-of-jail-free card.
I’d never let it stand, so long as I fucking lived.
“That’s my phone,” Nielson murmured as I heard rattling vibrations from somewhere. “Char, do you feel comfortable sitting in a room with your lawyer?”
Oh God. Please. “Please don’t put me back in that cell. I’ll do anything, just don’t put me back there.”
“All right, all right, all right,” Nielson said as a door nudged open somewhere. “Here we go, right in here with Miss Sinclair.”
“Is she all right?” I heard Abbie ask.
“Are you guys kidding me right now?” Marcie asked.
“Can it,” Commander Hadley barked.
Nielson gingerly placed me down in a chair in front of Abbie at the same table we just were at before he ripped his phone out of his pocket.
“Uh, Commander?” he asked.
“Yes, Sheriff?”
“You need to come with me. There’s something you need to see. Char?”
I stared at Abbie. “What?”
He placed a hand on my shoulder. “You sit tight here with your lawyer. I’ll have someone bring food and drinks around. I expect you to eat this time, okay?”
Oh, thank Jesus. “Yes, sir.”
He patted my shoulder. “Good. Commander, if you’ll follow me.”
Nielson barely got the interrogation room door closed behind him before I opened my mouth. But Abbie spoke before I could even ask my question.
“The results from the fingerprint swabs are back,” she said.
And at her words, my heart took flight.
Finally, some motherfucking hope.