Chapter 36
PEPPER
“Where are you taking me?” A flicker of hope that I’m being let go ignites and then gets swiftly snuffed by the police officer’s response.
“Chief’s office.” The heavy-jawed woman looks directly ahead, leading me down a corridor with crazy blue carpet tiles and cold breeze-blocked walls.
I’ve been sitting in an investigation room for hours, asked every question under the sun in a thousand different ways that Landau’s law partner had steadfastly insisted that I don’t answer.
My shoulders ache from being held so tight, and my head feels like it’s been packed with cotton wool.
Even in the early hours, activity still buzzes in the precinct, and two detainees sit handcuffed on plastic chairs amongst the informative posters that dot the walls, waiting to be processed at the front desk.
Most of the officers look bored or tired, nursing coffee cups and dark circles beneath their eyes that match their navy uniforms.
I’m taken to a quieter part of the station, where only the soft buzzing of a low phone vibrates the air. The police officer opens a nondescript door, and at the very same time, that sharp tingle creeps across the back of my neck. My hackles rise, something cold and heavy flushing through my veins.
“Get in,” the officer orders, shoving at my shoulder.
I shake my head, backing away as much as I can, almost tripping over the hem of my dress. She forces me over the threshold and I catch a split second of her emotionless face before the door is closed with an abrupt crack.
“It’s good to see you again, Pepper.”
Icy fingers slide down my spine, bile threatening to spill into my mouth as I whip around and see the man I’ve been running from for ten years sitting at a wooden desk, decorated with a large silver department shield on the wall behind.
The man who is the reason I’ve been arrested tonight—for supposedly trying to steal evidence of his crimes to take him and his corrupt family down.
His face is split in several places, blood crusting open wounds and swelling puffing one eye socket. The faint purple flush of a bruise begins to creep along his jaw, too. Someone did a number on him, but even that doesn’t soften his appearance.
I want to rush to the door and try to fling it open, but I’m pinned in place, sucked into those watery brown eyes I’ve fought to forget, my feet rooted in place.
“Aren’t you going to return the sentiment?” He lifts one curated eyebrow and smirks—a slimy, oily thing that makes my stomach plunge. “Or did you just plan on destroying my life and getting away with it?”
What do I say? What do you say to the man who violated you and seems to bear no regret? Thoughts swirl around my head at breakneck speed, making my vision spin.
“I hope you burn in hell for all eternity,” I hiss, a heavy thumping in my ears.
His smile only gets wider and it makes me want to throw up all over the scratchy carpet at my feet.
“You know…” He stops lounging back in the chair and leans forward instead, bracing his elbows on the desk. “I never understood why you turned on me after that night.”
I turn to ice, my teeth aching from being clamped so tightly.
“We had fun, didn’t we?”
I rear back like he’s physically hit me, nostrils flaring and panic beginning to swell inside my chest.
“Fun?” I choke out, taking a small step back to the wall behind me. “You think I enjoyed being raped?”
He rolls his eyes, leaning back into the leather chair with an audible groan of material squeaking on material. “Still sticking to the same ridiculous story, I see.”
“It’s not a story!” Anger ignites, hot and acidic, years of being branded a liar sparking that familiar feeling of injustice. Fuck this man. Fuck him all the way to hell.
“Oh yeah? Then why wasn’t I arrested? Last time I checked, you’re the one in jail and not me.”
Here and now, I see the true gravity of the situation I’ve put myself into.
This pathetic man is never going to be remorseful, he’s never going to get what he deserves.
It’s all been in vain. He’s too well connected, too powerful to sabotage when his family has their claws so deeply embedded into law enforcement.
Him being in here today demanding a private audience with me while I’m in custody and being granted it, proves that.
“They’re adding RICO charges, too. Did you know that?” He rises from the desk and walks slowly around it. “That means all of your little hacker friends are on the hook for this too.”
I force myself not to take another step back, refusing to let him see how terrified I am.
I am not a defenseless teenage girl anymore, and if he tries to lay one finger on me, I’ll rip out his fucking throat.
I think of Rosie, Kathy, and Maura—all of the women I work with who just want to take back a small slice of the autonomy that got taken from them by a man somewhere along the way.
They don’t deserve this. None of them do.
“Even that weird little kid you shacked up with, he could be considered an accessory too.”
He prowls closer and I bare my teeth. “Sunny has nothing to do with this.”
“Who is to say?” He waves a hand dismissively, and I see an image of the same pinkie wing he wears inches from my face.
My breathing comes in a little harder, but I force myself to remain in the present. “Why are you here?”
He pauses just a foot away from me, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I know about the evidence you and your little friends were trying to gather on my family, and I’m pleased to say it will never see the light of day.”
“That’s what you think.” I hurl the words at him with as much force as I can, my fingernails biting into my own palm.
He moves so quickly I barely see it, the back of his hand making sharp contact with my jaw, but I’m prepared for it.
My head snaps to the side, flames licking my chest as pain streaks across my face.
I rally quickly and throw my weight into a backhand of my own, landing on his cheek with a dull thwack.
“You fucking bitch!” he curses, lifting a hand to test the split that reopened across his cheekbone, finding his fingers covered in blood.
My body trembles, but I force myself to stand my ground. Yes, this man is bigger than me, but I’ll match him blow for blow if that’s what it takes.
He grabs the fabric at the front of my dress and slams me so hard into the wall that all of my breath wheezes out of me and I see stars.
“You’re going to give me every dirty thing you know about your little buddy, Chase Walker. And if he’s not dirty, you’re going to get your cronies to plant evidence.”
When the room stops spinning, I see the fury etched into every plane of his face, inches from mine, his breath hot and repulsive on my face. I grapple with his hands and turn my head away, my stomach revolting.
“No.”
“Yes!” He slams me again, so hard I feel something crack and cry out, my back seizing with pain. “Otherwise I’ll make sure all you see for the rest of your life are the same four little walls.”
I dig my nails into his wrists and turn to face him, mustering up every piece of courage I have. I know in my bones that I could never do that to Chase, even if it were to offer me a free ticket out of this fucked-up situation.
A new emotion floods my system as I see Chase in my mind’s eye, his face relaxed and laughing as he looks at me with warm whiskey eyes and something that always makes my heart beat a little faster.
It fortifies me, giving me a calm strength I don’t expect as a foreign type of reckless determination courses through my veins.
I spit in Rénir’s face, watching him flinch back as the sound of the door handle turning reaches us.
“Go fuck yourself, asshole.”
***
Goosebumps sweep my skin and I wrap my arms tighter around myself to try and ward them off, staring at the scuffed and chipped baseboard inches from my face.
The door sounds and I lock myself into the ball I’m scrunched into on the floor, tears silently slipping down to the carpet.
“I brought you some food and water, if you want it.”
The tenor of Detective York’s voice unscrunches my shoulders a fraction, but I don’t move. Something salty and sweet scents the air, and I hear him put something onto the table.
“I’m sorry about all that earlier, I didn’t know ’bout it and it wouldn’t have happened on my watch.”
Again, I don’t move. I don’t buy the sudden softness from the stern, brush-mustached detective who is hellbent on seeing me behind bars.
Tears keep slipping, my eyes raw from hours of lying this way in the corner, the overwhelming reality that I might be going to prison for a long, long time crashing over me like a mammoth wave.
That Sunny will be carted off by social services—alone, scared, and let down.
And that I might never see Chase again, either.
That beautiful, funny, brilliant man who somehow saw me.
Every part of me. Even the ones I hid from the world.
Failure burns at the back of my throat.
“This would all be a lot easier if you would just talk to me, you know. We’re going to tell the story either way, don’t you want to get your side of it included?”
I close my eyes, another shudder running through me. I’m still in just my dress—the beautiful cobalt silk one that Chase hand-picked for me, which felt so perfect for the occasion and now feels feebly protective against the icebox interview room.
“You’ll be transferred to holding in the morning. We can help set you up in your own room and make sure you’re looked out for, if you cooperate.”
Great, so I can add spreading my cheeks and coughing to the list of humiliation from the past twenty-four hours.
“The girls in Borough can be quite handsy, so I hear.”
Silence falls again, and I have no intention of breaking it. I’ve watched too many hours of crime documentaries to know that my best shot is to keep my mouth shut.
“Well, that’s a real shame. But it’s your life to throw away, I guess.”
The sound of his footsteps retreats toward the door and I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. As the detective leaves the room, I do something I’ve never done and open myself up to a higher power that I don’t believe in, no other option left to me than to pray.