Miss Jackson {b.u.}

{77}

I had never held my head as high as I am right now. Standing behind the glass, staring at him. He hadn't changed in four years. Well, besides the long, dirty and greasy hair and the overgrown beard. I swear, it was like those blue eyes held a dark essence of power behind them. And for them to be piercing into my eyes made this whole experience that much worse.

I don't understand why he targeted me. I know, he was obsessed with me. Crazy. But, he was so abusive, so cruel. I never would've survived with him. He would've killed me by now.

The detective sat across from him at the table, "so let me get this straight—you're tellin' me, that you didn't break into her house?"

"Nah, I didn't," Keaton began, "shes fuckin' crazy! Have you seen her take those pills?"

The detective leaned forward in his chair and clacked his knuckles on the table, "doesn't explain your recent move to New York," he began and opened the file, "you moved here around the same time Mrs. Urie did."

Keaton grimly looked up at the glass window. I know he couldn't see me, but he was acting like he could, "I moved here for my dying mother-"

"Your mother passed away three years ago, Keaton. Don't use a sorry excuse when we know everything about you."

I shut my eyes, putting my hand on my forehead. The police officer beside me took a quick glance at me and sighed, "did you have any clue he'd been stalking you this whole time?"

I shook my head. "No."

Keaton sat back in his chair and shrugged, "so what? Don't you think I would've...done something sooner."

The detective shook his head and sat back in his chair with his arm resting on the table, "No. I don't think you would've done anything sooner than you did. You're deranged."

Keaton scoffed, "i didn't do shit."

"You wanted to hurt her, Keaton." The detective stated.

"I would never hurt her! I loved her and she left me for that piece of shit repressed emo boy!" Keaton yelled and almost flipped the table.

I flinched a bit, causing a gasp to escape my mouth. I stepped back, still keeping my eyes on them. The detective chuckled and got up, his head shaking and the file closed in his hand, "would never hurt her? But you broke into her house, while her and her children were asleep. And you were armed with a weapon," he began and opened the door, but glanced back at Keaton, "that sounds a lot like you wanting to hurt her. Nothing you say will change what the court thinks. You're goin' to jail and Mrs. Urie is gettin' that restraining order."

The police officer turned the audio system off before Keaton started his fit of rage. He put his arm around me and walked me back into the main area of the station. I saw Brendon and he got up, holding River and Clover. Daphne got up beside him and held onto his arm, "we'll call you if we have any further questions." The detective stated.

I nodded my head and slightly turned my head toward him, "how does it look?"

"Looks like the odds are in your favor. Trust me, Mrs. Urie. My team and I wont let you and your family down."

I smiled and he patted my back. I walked over to Brendon and the kids. He set Clover and River down, then hugged me, "how was it, darlin'? You looked upset."

I pulled away, kneeling down and picking River up, "He's saying he didn't do it," I began and fixed him on my hip, "and that he didn't move here because of me."

Brendon leaned down and picked Clover up, "seriously?"

I sighed and turned toward the exit, waiting for Brendon to lead, "Detective Jenkins said odds are in my favor anyway—which is fantastic."