Don't Call Me Angel

Angel 18

As Lavender and Ambrose sat in the cramped interrogation room at the police station, the atmosphere was tense. Lavender's mind raced with thoughts of the consequences of her actions, while Ambrose maintained his usual stoic demeanor, his eyes fixed on the two-way mirror.

Detective Henderson entered the room, his expression stern as he took a seat opposite them. "Alright, let's start from the beginning. You two were the last ones seen with Logan before his death. Care to explain what happened?"

Lavender took a deep breath, her palms sweaty as she recounted the events of that fateful night. "Logan attacked me. He threatened me, and I... I defended myself," she explained, her voice trembling slightly.

Ambrose remained silent, his gaze unwavering as he observed the detective's every move.

Detective Henderson raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in his tone. "And what about you, Ambrose? What's your side of the story?"

Ambrose leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I was just a bystander. I saw what happened, but I didn't do anything to stop it," he replied casually, his voice dripping with nonchalance.

The detective narrowed his eyes, studying Ambrose's demeanor carefully. "Is that so? You expect me to believe that you had no involvement in Logan's death?"

Ambrose shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Believe what you want, Detective. But the truth remains the same."

Detective Henderson sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, I understand that you two have had your fair share of run-ins with the law, but we need to get to the bottom of this. Logan's death is not something we can sweep under the rug."

Lavender clenched her fists under the table, her frustration mounting. "We're telling you the truth! Logan was a threat to us both. He had it coming," she insisted, her voice rising with emotion.

The detective regarded her with a mixture of sympathy and suspicion. "I want to believe you, Lavender. But without concrete evidence, it's going to be difficult to prove self-defense."

Ambrose scoffed, his eyes flashing with defiance. "You think we're lying? Fine. Bring in the witnesses. Let them corroborate our story," he challenged, his voice laced with contempt.

Detective Henderson sighed, realizing that he was at an impasse. "Alright, I'll see what I can do. But in the meantime, you two are not to leave the station. Understood?"

Lavender nodded, her jaw clenched in determination. "Understood."

Ambrose remained silent, his gaze fixed on the detective as he left the room. As the door closed behind him, the weight of their situation hung heavy in the air.

"We're in deep trouble, aren't we?" Lavender whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ambrose reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We'll get through this, Lav. We always do," he said softly, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Despite the uncertainty of their future, Lavender found solace in Ambrose's words. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, united in their fight for survival.

As they sat in the dimly lit room, awaiting their fate, one thing was certain: their bond had never been stronger, and they would stop at nothing to protect each other, no matter the cost.

...

Lavender White sat on the cold, hard bench of her holding cell, her hands trembling slightly as she replayed the events that led her here. The sterile, metallic smell of the cell mixed with the distant sounds of other inmates, creating an atmosphere that was both suffocating and isolating. She glanced at Ambrose, who sat across from her, his eyes narrowed, lost in thought.