KILLED

Chapter Thirteen

"Who the h*ll do you think you are?!", Sofia exclaims. "Showing up here like the jacka** you are?!""
"You don't know me", my father responds calmly, setting a warm hand gently on my back. I draw in a sharp, shaky breath, then kick him in the ankle.
"Leave me alone", I say shakily. "You don't know me, and I don't want you to. My mom told you to go, and you should."
"You need help", he says roughly into my ear. "You need to trust me."
"The last time I trusted you", I say, drawing in a ragged breath and standing up straight. "You betrayed me, you cheating bastard."
The next thing I feel is my father's palm against my bandaged cheek, and the impact of his hit causes me to smash into the counter and fall.
I stay on the ground as a familiar voice says, "Turn around with your arms behind your back."
Sofia slides down onto the floor beside me and  whispers, "The detectives are here to save the day."
"Your under arrest for child abuse", Detective McCormick says, and I watch him slap the handcuffs on my father's wrists. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you."
Detective Patrick kneels down in front of us and asks, "You two all right?"
"He hit me", I whisper, touching my fingers gingerly to my cheek. "I never thought he'd do that."
"I thought you'd be with your mother."
I stand up, leaving my crutch on the ground as I say, "Things change."
I force myself into motion, making myself put weight on my foot, relishing the feeling of immense pain shooting up and down my body.
Now I'm even more determined to get even, and get revenge.
"Thanks for your help. But I don't need it anymore."
Then I take off at a run, not caring that my leg is on fire as I sprint out of the hospital, running and running in the direction of the place I need to be.
"TESS!", Sofia shouts after me. "STOP!"
I keep sprinting across the parking lot, heading in the direction of the police station, weaving in and out of the crowd, running and running, ignoring my pain and ignoring the exhaustion I feel already.
"TESS!", the detective's voice  is not far behind me, so I push myself even faster, and after a few minutes of running, I run up the steps and throw open one of the doors, running up to the front desk.
"Tyler Roberts, forensics. Where is he?", I pant.
"In the lab-" I take off again, taking a wild a guess about where the lab is, running down a flight of stairs.
Bingo.
On a glass door to my left, the word LAB is written in big bold letters.
I open it and slam the door behind me. Tyler jumps and glances up from the notebook he's writing in, his face shocked as Patrick bangs on the door.
"Tess, open up this God damn door before I fucking knock it down!"
"Go to hell!", I yell back, keeping my back on the cool glass, trying to keep the detective from getting in.
The forensic analyst makes his way over and asks, "What's going on?"
"Do you want the short version or the long?"
"Short."
"My dad was at the hospital, my mom is in surgery, and dear old father hit me across the face. And I'm already sick of this. It needs to end now."
"Well, I guess you could stay with me", he replies, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "If part of the problem is too many people. I know you're used to only one other person in a house with you.
I hug him, forgetting that Detective Patrick is on the other side of the door.
He swings open the door and tackles me to the floor, holding me down with his superior weight and strength.
"Get off!", I yell, wiggling around on the floor.
"Why did you run?!", the man exclaims. "I will handcuff you to a chair if I have to, do you understand me?"
"I'm not staying with you any longer."
"Like hell you aren't."
"Actually she's not", Tyler breaks in awkwardly. "She's staying with me, Detective. And you can let go of her. I have the situation under control."
Patrick sighs and lets me up, helping me back to my feet. "You still might need these", he says, pulling out the cuffs and tossing them to my friend. "Now if you excuse me, I have a bastard to prosecute. I'll send over Tess's things to your place tonight."
"Bye."
The man leaves and shuts the door behind him, his expression full of understanding and pity.
"Can I help?", I ask as Tyler strolls back to his notebook. "I need something to do."
He considers then sighs, "Actually, yes. They called your phone earlier, and I need you to call back."
I nod. "Sure." I take a step, then wince, suddenly remembering my ankle. Then I start walking, deciding to ignore the pain as best I can.
I join my friend at the table, picking up the phone and unlocking it before going to the recent calls, clicking on the phone number I'm starting to hate so much.
I hold the device up to my ear  and wait.
"Hello, Tess." Johnsmen answers. "I suppose you're wondering why I called."
"Yes, I am."
"You see, I need a little favor", he says. "'And you're going to do exactly what I say."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because if I were you, I wouldn't want your mother's surgery to go wrong", the man replies calmly. "Is that a good enough reason?"
"What do you want me to do?", I ask, biting my lip. "And why me?"
"Because no one is going to suspect a teenager."
What do you want me to do?", I repeat. "I haven't got all day."
"Actually, I think you do. I want you to pick up my next shipment of weed. And don't worry, I won't make it far, just at the park, same bench as last time."
"Where do I take it?"
"To the edge of the forest. Doesn't sound too hard, does it?"
I sigh. "I have a counteroffer. I'll do it, and whoever killed Emily confesses to the murder, and I want you to leave my mom alone."
"I don't do counteroffers. The shipment arrives in half an hour. See you then."
The line goes dead.