Trapped |Jake Sim|

22

Jake served his tea as Sonny sat on the counter watching him. The only light that was on was the kitchen light.

"You should add lemon to your tea, it's good for your sleep."

He hummed at her words. "I don't like the sourness, but I'll add it for you."

"Thank you." She whispered in endearment.

Sonny stared at him as he moved towards her, placing his mug on the counter after fixing up the tea. "You know I won't be here forever, right?"

Jake placed his hands on either side of Sonny on the counter and she placed her arms around his shoulders.

There was no reaction to her words besides a shrug after a few seconds.

"Aren't you curious?" Sonny said gently as she stared into his eyes.

"Curious about what?"

"Why I said that."

Jake looked away from her before shaking his head.

"I know why you'll be leaving."

"Why do you think I'm leaving?"

"Because I know who he is now, you are the guilt that I had for knowing who your killer was and not catching him, aren't you?"

"So, you think that... after that man gets caught, your guilt will be gone?" She asked softly, making Jake hesitate before nodding his head.

Sonny smiled a little before placing a small peck on his lips. "I hope that happens."

Jake looked at her before placing his head against her shoulder. "I love you, Sonny."

She ran her hand through his hair and gently kissed his head. "I love you, Jake."

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Jake stood outside of the police station taking in a small breath to calm down, before walking inside.

His eyes met the bartender's who was sitting in front of the officer from before.

Jake ran a hand through his hair as he sat down on the chair next to him. His hand was shaking in anger, but he grabbed onto the bag in his hand to try to keep himself sane.

"I'm glad that you're here. Mr. Mora here is nice enough and wanted to reach settlement instead of pressing charges after finding out about your mental health and your grief."

Jake hummed as he tightly bit his lip.

Jake's eyes started filling with tears at even the thought of being next to him without hurting him.

"I have something to say." Jake spoke softly. "I know that he killed my girlfriend."

The officer stayed quiet for a few seconds, before looking at Jake and clearing his throat.

"What proof do you have?"

"I was there on the night of her murder. I remember I saw his boots, his silhouette, running out of our apartment. His boots had cement on them, that night. And he had the same type of boots with cement too, that night I hit him at the bar. He is the son of my landlord, and the landlord told me the type of boots that he kept seeing in front of Sonny's apartment. I know it was him."

The officer let out a small sigh as he remembered Sonny Lane's case, before shaking his head.

"Listen. Mr. Sim. We can't investigate based on these claims. We need factual evidence. You would need to get a study done with your psychiatrist to confirm the validity of your statement. What I would recommend is to write all of this down, and come back to the station tomorrow, and we will bring a mental health specialist to confirm. Okay?"