Beautiful temptation |18+

SEVENTEEN

SABRINA

I push my hand across my face; the sound of my legs bouncing against the cold marble floor is the only thing I'm able to process.

Even with the heavy towel tossed over my shoulder and the humming of the heater, cold still nipples at my flesh, a shiver still runs down my spine every time I remember his head on my couch. 

“Oh god.” I whispered, covering my face with my hand. 

I don't know how long I've been sitting in this interrogation room.

Time seemed to have stopped completely when I discovered the head. I don't remember when I hung up on William and called the police. I don't remember when the cops burst through my house, guns in the air. I don't remember the paramedics talking to me, ushering me out of my home, or putting the towel on me.

Hell, I don't even remember when they put me in the police cruiser and brought me here. 

All I remember is seeing Maxwell's head, then heading up here. 

I warned you, Piccolo Fiore.

My eyes squeezed shut, and I took in a shaky breath to steady myself. 

He did, and I was stupid enough to think that he was joking. 

Never in a million years would I think he would pull through with this. 

Sure, he broke into my home almost every night. But that was the highest he has ever done. He was always all bark and no bite.

I didn't think he was capable of fucking murder.

Don't be fooled by his chatty demeanor, Sabrina; William is a very dangerous man.

Mike had been right, and I had been fooled. 

Now an innocent man had paid the price. 

A creaking sound filled the room as the door opened, and I looked up as two detectives walked into the room, their hands filled with bags that had McDonald's logos on them. 

“Evening, sorry to have kept you waiting,” the taller man between the pair said, dropping the food down on the table in front of me before stretching out his hand.

“My name is Detective Eren, but everyone just calls me Sam,” he smiled at me.

I slowly took his hand, everything feeling like a feverish dream that I prayed to God I would wake up from. 

“Sabrina Washburn.” I mumbled, even tho I knew they would already know my name.

“And this is my partner, Detective Jones,” he pointed at the man putting the food he was holding down at the table. The man turned to me and gave me a curt nod, his face lacking any smile. 

“We thought you'd be hungry after waiting for so long, so we brought a couple of McDonalds on the way here.”

“Thank you, but I don't want anything,” I whispered.

The only reason I'm not throwing up right now is because there's no food in my stomach. And given that I'm going to have to relive the incident, the last thing I want to do is throw up on these men's shoes. 

“That's understandable. Given all that has happened tonight,” 

They both sat down on the chairs, Eren sitting closer while Jones sat a lot closer to the door, eyeing me down before opening his clipboard and bringing out a pen from his flared shirt pocket. 

I just nodded, looking down at my bitten nails.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” he propped.