Bully

Chapter 30

   I ducked my head into the police car, aware of passerby's casting curious and disapproving looks at the scene. My breath was still coming out hard and heavy from the chase, and I considered making another run for it but I knew it was pointless, especially since the officer was about a metre behind me and would easily be able to grab me.

    Defeated, I sat down on the black fabric seats and the door slammed shut behind me, encasing me into the dark empty cell. Numbly, I watched through tinted windows as a new crowd started to gather, and the officer shared a quick few words with his comrades before getting into the front of the vehicle. My mind raced, grabbing at straws as to why the police had hounded after me. Only two solutions presented themselves to me, and both I knew I'd be in serious trouble for.

  One – they had discovered me from my involvement with Bugs. Two – they had finally caught wind of my uncle's gruesome death...

   I tried to ignore the latter. If it were the first reason, then I would actually be relieved. If it was the second...

  A shudder ran down my spine. I couldn't think about that.

  The car let out a growl as it charged forward, taking me back to its den which I was sure I wouldn't return from.

  The ride wasn't over soon enough. What should have been a five minute journey seemed like hours on end. All I was left to do for entertainment was think, and I preferred to not be left alone with my own train of thought, because my mind was a dark place that was full of cobwebs and dust.

  The image of Emily's worried face rebound around my skull along with Weedy Jimmy's voice 'Emily deserves better than you. You'll bring her down one way or another'.

  He was completely right, of course. This latest event just proved that. Who wanted to be acquainted with a no good bully who ran from the police? It was a bad reputation for an innocent girl like Emily.

  Surprisingly I didn't feel anxious about what this day might result in, just accepting. As if I knew this day would come eventually and now that it had I wasn't worried of the outcomes. Maybe the day of my uncle's death had just marked this event in my fate?

  I breathed a sigh of relief as the vehicle ceased to a stop, signalling that my sentence of torture was over. My door opened, allowing an escape from my relentless conscience. The officer glared at me, hard, cold eyes openly showing his thoughts on his face. He looked down on me, like I was nothing but dirt on his shoes. Maybe I was.

  "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," he grunted, dangling some handcuffs in my face to clearly show me what he meant by the 'hard way'. I rolled my eyes, completely unfazed by the situation now that I had had a chance to sit down quietly and think. Who did he think he was? Some hardcore cop from a blockbuster action film?

  Giving him a look that expressed exactly what I was thinking, I strolled to the front door of the station, the officer following close on my heels incase I made a break for it. Without even considering this thought, I opened the door and stepped into the building. I had a feeling that it may be a long time before I was free from the police and authorities.

  The officer grabbed my forearm, gripping it tightly which caused me to wince from the pain as it was exactly the spot where I had conflicted an injury on myself with the pen. Seeing my grimace, the officer gave me curious look.

  "Take your jacket off," He instructed, his tone giving no allowance for argument. I glared at him, having an internal debate as to whether I should obey him or not. After one long minute of glaring at his strict face, I eventually deduced that arguing will get me nowhere. He'd get to see my arm one way or another.