Devil

-3-

-Esla-

I sat by my father's side at the hospital with a wrapped shoulder and sorrow deep in my stomach. My mother had stepped out to take a call from her boss. They said Dad would be fine, and he should heal up nice but he'd have to go easy for a few months. I already knew without it being said that this would mean more work hours to support our family from Mom and me. Dad might even lose his mechanic job if they don't let him have some recovery time. It was a small little business, but they were constantly busy.

I got myself comfortable on an armchair and laid my head down. The cops, someone I hardly trust, have to catch the people who did this to my daddy.

Or I motherfucking will.

I was closing my eyes when there was a knock at the door. My father didn't rustle a bit. I looked past the medical tap, dried drool, and tubes sticking in him. He still was the same man who helped me tie my shoes when I was little.

I went to answer the door and was surprised to see a cop back here again. The man was chiseled with muscles and a sharp jawline for days. His soft looking lips parted and he offered me a dimpled smile. "I'm here on behalf of Stafford-Perry Island police. I'd like to ask you some questions. Are you his wife?"

I blinked and composed myself. Lately I had been questioning my sexuality, but this man right here was about to change it all. "No, I'm actually his daughter. My mother should be back soon."

"Was she there? When he got shot?" he asked with his deep voice. His brown skin was smooth underneath the hospital's harsh lights and the smell of a light cologne wafted off of his tight uniform. He looked more like a stripper than an actual cop.

"No, but-

"Then I don't need to talk to her," he smiled at me.

I was confused. Didn't an adult have to be present when the police talk to you? All of those crime shows had me confused now.

"I'm not supposed to do this, but I can see you're a smart and determined girl."

I listened in, growing wary of the man.

"Somebody bad shot your father. He wronged the person that I work for. Based on the last time I had an update on info, the man who is a traitor to my boss hasn't been found yet nor all of his friends that were in that black Jeep. Help us find him, tell us what you know, and your family can be paid handsomely and taken care of."

"My family doesn't need dirty money. And who do you work for," I scoffed.

"My boss Nicotine. The bills we pulled up connected to your father and mother's name show you need some sort of money. Why not ours?" he smirked, his dimple seeming more annoying now rather than attractive. I looked over at my sleeping dad, holding his hand.

"Alright, thank you," my mom came back into the room with her phone to her ear and blinked as she took in the fake cop and me. "What's going on here? Who are you?"

"I'm Detective Rick," the man offered my mother the same smile, "I'm here to ask your daughter some questions about the man who shot her father. This is a very serious and tragic situation," his thick lips moved.

"Well go on," my mother gestured to him, pressing something random on her phone. "I'm Haniella Lavigne. Esla's mom."

The fake cop turned his gaze back to me, his eyes a mixture of hazel and green. "Esla, what a beautiful name." My mother folded her arms, watching the cop and I. I took in a deep breath, promising myself I'd tell my mother who he really was once he left.

"The men in the Jeep came around-

"Start from the beginning," the cop waved around his hand. I gulped, I hadn't really told my mother about the fight yet. I didn't want her to think Dad's injury was my fault, although it was starting to seem like it now.

"My best friend and I were walking from school to Jack N Box." My mother tensed up. She must already know what goes down in those parking lots, she also must not have been watching the news obsessively as I had in the last 12 hours.

"This girl wanted to fight me and had been talking about me for some time so we fought," I shrugged, not looking at my mother. "I won, but then gun shots started. My best friend and some people I had came with...we started running towards the neighborhood. Everybody in Perry Island basically lives in Perry Island Street, either in the houses, the townhomes like us, or the apartments. The group that was with us left but me...and my best friend kept heading towards my house in Perry Island Street since we knew they probably lived there too. Now that I think about it, they must have known where my house was or followed us. But I'm not that popular. But I didn't see anyone following behind," I frowned, trying to think.

"I think they might be related to the girl I fought," I locked eyes with the fake cop. "They shot my dad then drove right past me and my best friend as we were helping him." I finished the rest of the story and looked at my lap reverently.

"We'll look into the family of the girl." The cop turned to look at my mother and I slowly peeled my gaze up. She was wiping away tears, and trying to calm herself down. I didn't know what to do, and I felt guilty as hell.

"Ms. Lavigne?" the cop asked hesitantly.

"Mrs. Lavigne," my mom corrected, patting her undereyes with a tissue.

"Could you step outside for a moment?"

My mom nodded without a second thought, leaving the room quickly. I didn't know if it was to get further away from me or to feel better. I grimly looked at the cop. "Don't tell anyone else who I am. Anymore information you remember, send it as a text to this number."

He handed me a card with just a random phone number on it with a unfamiliar area code.

"You're gonna kill him right?" I asked, attempting to make my voice appear strong.

The man nodded.

"Let me know when. I wanna be there," I said standing up. I grabbed his hand and shook it before he could register what I was doing. "He hurt my dad, he deserves to be hurt worse," my voice shook.

"Strong girl," he smirked, and took back his hand. "We'll see about your attendance on that matter."

The cop left, leaving me with mixed feelings.