Chapter 41 |...His voice is engraved in my fucking mind."

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I keep my face in Jameson's chest, afraid to move away from him. The hair on the back of my neck rise from the voice. So familar. The voice sends me right back. "I'm here", Jameson whispers in my ear, his voice soft. "I'm right here, flower", he whispers and I cling to him, to his voice.

I nod and whisper, "He is right behind me, isn't he?"

"I'm sorry", my boyfriend says in answer to my question and I stay pressed to him. For a moment longer. I just want to stay here, in Jameson's hold. Jameson keeps a hand on top of my head but I feel his head moving away from me.

"Don't comment on her body", Jameson's voice comes from before me, loud and edging on to fury.

"She was always a pretty one", he says and I feel myself moving my head from Jameson's chest. I open my eyes and find him. He looked more prideful now than he did when Jameson was talking to him the other week. He looks more real. He can't touch me, won't touch me, and yet I can feel him on me. How was this possible? The mind was the greatest betrayer of the body.

"Gorgeous", he comments when my face comes into view and I move my head back in the crook of Jameson's arms. Jameson stands up straighter and says, "Keep talking and I'm going to join you in here for assualt."

"My son, the greatest lover", his dad says a bit of irony in his voice. "Kept this one longer", he adds and I feel Jameson stiffen beside me. His father was talking about how Jameson's ex-girlfriend had left him after truly seeing him.

"Why do you need her here?", Jameson asks who I assume to be the police officer so I take my face away from Jameson's arm and look ahead. A person is in actually in FBI uniform and I know that this case was in full spring. He nods at me and then looks up at Jameson, "Bring her in for questioning."

Jameson nods and then the FBI agent grabs his father by the arm and drags him ahead of us. I stall and Jameson looks down at me. "Are we going to be in the same room as him?", I ask and Jameson looks ahead. From the look on his face— confusion and then a light frown— the answer is a yes but Jameson looks back at me and shakes his head. Jameson was constantly trying to make me feel better.

I grab his arm and the both of us start to head the way we saw the FBI drag his father. His father was talkative, always making conversation with the other people in the station. "Shut up", the FBI agent says and then shoves him into a chair. Jameson's fathers eyes move down to my legs where he lazily moves them up the length of them.

"I should've worn pants", I whisper to Jameson and he frowns down at his father before shaking his head. "Take a seat", the FBI agent says to me and I reluctantly take a seat at the table, Jameson standing behind me. The FBI agent introduces himself, "Special Agent Goldberg, I'm head of this case."

"Ivory Hart", I introduce my name dropping my mother's added last name. The man with the buzz cut nods and then looks behind me. "And you are?"

"Jameson Meiers", the guy behind me answers and I watch his dad's face drop. His mouth is agape and his eyes are widened. "Funny", his dad says. Jameson doesn't answer but his father doesn't need others to talk as well; he does fine on his own. "You didn't change your last name."

"Not that is matters to you", Jameson starts, "But I did."

Agent Goldberg interrupts any other conversation that might have happened and says, "There really shouldn't be a trial for this man. But it's our human right for a trial so we are obliged to have one."

I nod tentatively and he continues, "Have you see this man before?"

"No", I answer and he nods. "But he is familar, why?"

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