Through Hard Times. (Fantastic Foursome Fanfiction)

Leech

Daryl’s POV (First Person)

I gently pulled at the hand cuffed that trapped me to the iron chair, looking at the door to the interrogation room. Just as my eyes met it a man came out, one I recognized all too well. He’s the one who’s assigned to my case. Officer Edwards. He’s the one to tracked Victor down, the one who questioned Melanie the night I took the fall for her. I frowned at him as he sat on the other side of the table, placing a thick manila folder in front of himself.

He’s like a leech. Taking everything out of my life—draining it. He’s made every moment hard for me, made everything difficult.

“You got me.” I said, leaning back in the chair and smirking, trying to ruffle his feathers, “Took you long enough.” His expression stayed stony as he rested his elbows on the table. “Tsk, tsk, now. Wouldn’t want to be improper.” I teased in a British accent, looking from him to his elbows.

He ignored me, though, and started talking, “Now Mr. Jacobs, we have enough evidence to put you away for a long, long time. But, we also have to power to make this a lot easier for you.”

“Fine, I’ll bite.” I said shortly, “What bullshit do I need to do?”

“Tell us where Victor Fredrick is and where the rest of the gang is located.” I actually laughed at how absurd he was being. Like I’d actually do that.

“You have a better chance at moving out of your mother’s basement.” I insulted, genuinely having fun with this prick. I mean, I guess he’s just doing his job, but it was a little entertaining messing with him face-to-face.

“You have a family, yes?” Edwards said, unfazed and flipping open the folder, placing pictures in front of me. One of Jacob, Miya, and Melanie.

All of the sudden this wasn’t so fun anymore.

“Wouldn’t you like to see them? We have the capability to withhold visitation rights. We can lock you up so tight, you’ll never see these people again.”

I thought about that for a second. He has to be bluffing, right? I mean, that’s a basic human right. He can’t take that away from me. He won’t.

“After you joined that gang, after you killed those people, you subjected yourself to us. We can dictate everything you do, who you see, what you eat.”

I tugged at the cuffs, wanting to punch this dick in the face, “Shut up!” I snarled, my face going red. He can’t tell me what to do. He can’t decide if I can see my family. I haven’t even held Jacob yet! My only son!

“Your children will grow up never knowing who their father was on their own. They’ll only know what we tell them. They’ll only know you as a murderer, moldering away in a prison cell. They’ll know you as a worthless animal, a monster.”

I was fuming at this point, how dare he talk about me like that?! He doesn’t know me! He doesn’t know my life!

“Shut up!” I screamed, the cuffs cutting into my wrists as I pulled against them, “Shut up, shut up, shut up! You have no right—”

“I have every right!” He yelled, standing up. He slid his arms across the table and files and photos and files flew everywhere. “You killed the people in these files! You ruined families! You’ve psychologically tormented business owners!”

“I did nothing!” I finally screamed, tears falling down my face, “Do you know how much it hurts seeing people die, but not being able to stop it because you have nowhere else to go?!”

Joe. Killing people. I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t do anything. If I did, he would’ve had me out on the streets. He probably would’ve shot me.