Meant to be Yours (ChanSaw)

Chapter 13 (Heather Chandler)

"What do you mean 'no'?!" I shout angrily at Officer Christmas, the resident asshole of the local police station.

He finishes chewing his bite of breakfast sandwich, and replies, "Princess, you know damn well you don't have a good rep 'round these parts. Why on Earth would I believe you now?"

I have to resist the urge to strangle his fat neck. "This girl means a lot to me. A lot more than you think," I reason, balling and un-balling my fists methodically.

He scoffs. "Unless your heart grew three sizes over night, I know that nobody means anything to you." Taking another bite, he adds, "Much less some girl, and not someone who's fucking you,"

The sausage stink of his breakfast clang to his breath like flies to shit. I began mouth breathing to avoid the stink. Responding to his previous comment, I add, "What, you think all I care about is sex?"

He chews slowly, and with his mouth still full, says, "Yes. Of course, and so does everyone else in the state of Ohio." He ponders, and tags on, "As a matter of fact, everyone in a state of consciousness thinks you live off of sex,"

I look away in shame, and barely a few seconds pass before he chokes on his food, "Good lord, Chandler, are you a dyke?!"

I cringe at the word, something that didn't go unnoticed. "Holy shit!" He laughs, "You are fucking that girl!"

I sigh. "So are you going to save her or not?"

He frowns slightly. "Of course not. First off, don't believe a word you say, judging by how many times you've been in here before. Second, even if you were telling the truth, I ain't helping a couple of faggots. And third, I don't like your tone."

Finished with this man's garbage, I smack the food out of his hand and onto the floor. I storm out of the police station absolutely fuming. Asshole. Out of all the cops in the world, I get stuck with the biggest dickhole in at least a 100-mile radius.

I contemplate going back home, but I don't think that would do any good. I need JD's address, or license plate, or anything really. I get back in my car and drive to the nearest 7-11. I need gas, and I'm out of Corn Nuts.

I arrive and put the nozzle into my car. I flip the metal flap so I don't have to hold the lever on the pump. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head. I whip out my phone and google 'nearest private investigator.' A few seconds after the results popped up, I get a call from none other than JD.

I think about not answering, but what harm could it do at this point? I select the green icon and begin the conversation. "What the fuck do you need?"

"Ooh, someone got off on the wrong side of the bed, huh?" He chuckles. I remain silent. "You're no fun, Red."

"Why did you call me?" I ask again, eager to end the conversation as soon as possible.

"You really are no fun," he sighs. "What do you need a P.I. for?"

My blood runs cold and I feel my heart drop. "How...?"

"I told you, I've got your phone under lock and key. Not only your phone, every phone in the area. Good luck finding a way to get help."

The gas pump clicks, finishing. I just stand there, my mouth ajar and my knees one motion away from collapsing.

"You might as well give up at this point. There is absolutely no way I am letting you near her again," He lets out a single snicker, "I'm simply smarter than you, Heather. More capable. More desirable, and you are nothing."

The beep of an ended phone call snaps me out of my daze, and my knees finally give up supporting the rest of my body. My legs hit the ground hard, and my back slides down my car. For whatever reason, the tears don't come. I think I must be in shock or something. I don't know how long I've sat there before I hear a voice beside me.

"Heather?"

Slowly, ever so slowly, I turn my head to see who in God's name is talking to me.

"Martha?" I say slowly, as if I've never heard the name before.

She sits down next to me. "Do you wanna talk about it?" She asks sweetly, putting a hand on my shoulder.

That's my breaking point. I can feel my heart absolutely shatter. I can practically feel the shreds of what it once was collapse. Tears well up in my eyes and start flowing freely.

Martha shushes gently and rubs my shoulder, "It's ok, Heather. Let it all out."

I'm not sure how long I've sat here. It feels amazing to have a person I know cares about me help out for once.