TouchNode | Complete

29 | Mrs. Voughton

Names have power. So, I'm naming myself Optimus Prime. Then maybe, just once, I'll be the good guy.

"Here's your coffee, Miss."

I smiled gratefully to the young officer across the desk as he sat. He was young, dark-haired, with bright hazel eyes. A smile lit them up further, highlighting the single dimple in his left cheek.

"How are you holding up?"

I shrugged and clutched the thin, paper cup between my trembling palms. The warmth was nice. It slowed my increasingly harsh trembles. Bringing the cup close to my lips, I took a tentative sip.

"Lots of cream, no sugar. Did I get it right?"

"Yes." I cleared my throat. "Just right." It was a lie. The coffee was stale, too blonde for my liking and the cream was expired. For his benefit, I tipped the cup again to take a second sip.

"I hate to do this to you again, Miss..." His eyebrows pulled down, "Jackson."

"What are you doing to me again?"

"I need to know just a few more details from you, then I promise you'll be on your way."

Vomit clawed up my throat. I didn't want to discuss this night again and certainly not to another new face. My hands fisted as I pulled them from the table and sat upright.

"What details?"

His eyes rocketed to mine, analyzing my quick change of mood. Slightly nervous, he cleared his throat and adjusted the thin tie he wore. Stains dotted the edges of his white button-up dress shirt, and the pocket was crumpled, it made me wonder what his job was at the precinct.

"Uhhh... how about we start at the beginning?" He reached into his pants pocket and produced a pen and leather-bound notepad. "Tell me what you remember."

"I already told you what I remember."

"Please Miss Jackson, just once more."

"No." I refused. I wasn't telling this story again.

"Miss Jackson, I'll have to detain you if you aren't forthcoming with details on the altercation."

Altercation? Altercation? They were calling what happened to me an altercation? Hot rage sliced up my spine, burning through every other emotion I was feeling.

"Then fucking detain me." I yelled, "I don't give a shit. You've got a lot of nerve to come in here and call what happened to me an altercation."

He tripped over his words as he opened and closed his thin lips. His hands shook as I stared him down, waiting. This guy was a joke!

"Miss Jackson, I really want to help you."

Oh! So he was going with the sympathetic, guilt-trip route. It may have worked for others, but his low, patronizing voice only served more fuel to the fire. I fisted my hands until my knuckles turned white and little half-moons were left in my palms.

"I don't th--" I stopped, blinking up at him. "What did you say your name was again?"

He smiled, "Officer Channing."

"Where's your badge?"

The smile wiped off his face instantly, "excuse you?"

Leaning forward, I spoke slowly and loudly. "Where is your badge, Officer Channing?"

"You're in a police station, lady. Who else is going to come in here to talk to you?"

"I think you better go find your badge, right now, sunny-boy."