Diary of a Fat Girl's Healing

Chapter 4

The officer yanks J out of the car, towing him towards the station. They enter and a pair of younger-looking officers lead him to the holding cells while they prepare him for processing. 

J plops down onto the solid metal bench that juts out from one of the walls. With his hands still behind his back, he can't fix his ruffled hair or itch his nose, nothing. His heart hammers against his chest as he waits in anticipation for someone to come speak with him. He wants answers. Why the hell is he locked up in a cell on a Sunday night? Surely it can't be for the simple accusation of harassment which he isn't even guilty of. 

Just as J is finally calming down and gathering his thoughts, the cell door swings open, and the first officer, the one who detained him at the club, pulls J up from the bench and ushers him toward a different room. His handcuffs are removed. He is offered a real chair, not just some hunk of scrap metal. The officer even slides a water bottle across the table to him. J stares at it, mind completely blank. 

"You know why you're here right?" the gravelly voice cuts through the silence. Officer Marks, according to his nametag, taps his fingers against the table that divides them, waiting for a response from the perp.

"Honestly, I have no fucking clue. Am I being held captive because of some bullshit accusations made against me at that club? Because if that's why I'm here, either it's a slow night for you all, or my tax dollars are being wasted on a bunch of lug nuts who are too busy locking up innocent people and not seeking out the real crimes that go on in this city." Once J gives his spiel, he reaches for the water bottle, opens it, and takes a sip. He sets the bottle back down on the table and waits for Officer Marks to tell him off for his disrespectful attitude or whatever. A smug look shoots across his face while he relishes in his tiny victory. 

"You're right. That's not why I dragged you over here. You getting kicked out of the club for your disorderly conduct is just the icing on the cake for me. It's punks like you that remind me of why I do what I do." Officer Marks flips through a notepad until he finds the page he seeks. "Julian Gutierrez? That's your government name correct?"

"Yes?" J keeps silent while the officer continues his interrogation. 

"We have reason to believe that you have been sending threatening letters to a Mr. Nikolaos Romano. He has provided the transcripts of every interaction he has had with you, his suspected blackmailer. He has also sent multiple files and background checks on everyone in his own life who he had previously researched when the blackmail first began. Do you have anything you want to share with me? We have officers heading to your home now with a warrant to collect any evidence that may be related to this case."

All the color drains from J's face. The smug smirk is replaced with a look of horror and guilt. He was so careful to ensure that no trace of himself was present in those letters. He even went so far as to hire a body double for the meet-up. The room around him starts spinning counterclockwise. 

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The cab stops in front of the familiar towering apartment complex. Nik pays the fare and the two head up to his place. As soon as the door closes behind them Nik pulls Jane in for a searing kiss. Her lips meet his with equally as much passion. Their mouths are molded together perfectly as they continue this heated battle. They part for a moment to breathe. Nik takes this moment to look over Jane again. Her eyes have more life to them now but are still a bit jaded. Her skin is dull and lifeless, not a fleck of rosy color anywhere.