Diana, a timid 19-year-old artist, battles severe anxiety while recovering from the aftermath of a toxic relationship. With support from her father, the VP of a biker club, and his close-knit friends, she starts to heal. When she unexpectedly bonds...
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So if you don't mind, I'll walk that line Stuck on the bridge between us Gray areas and expectations But I'm not the one if we're honest -Troye Sivan
✶ ✧ ❃ ✧ ✶
DIANA
As the ambulance doors slammed shut, carrying Eddie away from the chaos, I stood surrounded by flashing lights and uniformed officers, their presence cutting through the haze of disbelief.
"Miss Ramirez?" A police officer approached me cautiously, his footsteps scratching against the driveway pavement.
"I'm Officer Powell," he said gently, his voice calm. "I know this is a difficult time, but I need to ask you a few questions about what happened tonight."
I nodded, my throat tight with emotion as I struggled to find my voice. The past few minutes replayed in my mind like a broken record, each detail painfully clear. The image of Eddie in his blood-soaked shirt sent a wave of heat over my skin, but I pushed it aside, trying not to make things worse.
Glancing around, I noticed a few neighbors peering out from their doorways, their curious gazes making me feel exposed and vulnerable.
"Officer," I began hesitantly, "do you think we could talk inside? It's pretty cold out here."
He nodded understandingly. "Of course."
Away from the prying eyes of the neighbors, I felt like I could breathe a little easier. I didn't need anyone making any wild assumptions about my family. I tucked my cold hands under my arms, shuffling up the driveway and heading inside with Officer Powell. Leading him to the kitchen, I tried to stay as far from the scene as I could, sitting on the farthest end of the dining table.
How did it get to this point? Is this my fault?
Officer Powell took a seat across from me. "Can you tell me what happened?" he asked, his tone gentle but firm.
I nodded, swallowing hard as I tried to piece together the events that had unfolded just moments before. "I was...working on Eddie's tattoo. Something shattered the window and when I looked up, I saw Billy trying to crawl in. Everything happened so...fast."
The memories flooded back, each detail seared into my mind. I sat at the kitchen table, my hands trembling. "Eddie rushed me out of the room and told me to call for help," I said, closing my eyes as I relived the moment. "So I ran upstairs to my dad's room. I...I knew he had a gun...so I got that first. For protection."
"And you were the one who fired the shots?" he asked.
I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. "Yes. I heard movement downstairs—banging, I guess. I was worried about Eddie, so I set down the phone and took the gun with me."
