CARMEN
I opened my eyes, and tried to jump up and defend myself, as I didn't know where I was. But, the thing was, I was moving and a roof was above me, and I was sitting.... and handcuffed.
I winced, my head hurting like hell. I tried to clear my blurry vision, and sucked in my breath as I heard a voice.
"Don't try any shit there, James."
It was.... an officer. A police officer, behind a cage-type wall. I was in a police car. A fucking police car.
I threw my head back and laughed, as the police officer tried to shush me. "What the hell happened to you? You're insane! What are you planning? Shut the hell up, James!"
"Sorry, officer." I giggled, but it died off quickly as I remembered why I was here. "Say, uh, officer?"
He grunted, signaling he was listening.
"Did I pull the trigger back there?"
He stayed quiet for a moment, and my eyes watered a bit, but I blinked them away. "Uh... no. You almost did."
"Then why am I here?"
He scoffed. "You don't know?" I shook my head, and he saw through the mirror. "Well, attempted murder charges are being placed against you. Seriously, James? You pulled out a gun in a goddamn hospital."
I sighed, and didn't say anything. What was I thinking?
We turned to the left, and I saw the police station and jail ahead. I never thought I would end up here, especially as a prisoner.
"How long am I stuck here?" I asked, thinking of the investigation.
"At least 2-3 days, depending on charges and court days. A judge is currently reviewing everything, and it will take a while to gather it all, so get comfy." The officer said, pulling in and stepping out of his part of the car. He flung open the door, and harshly grabbed my cuffed wrists, wrapping his fingers around my left upper arm. He pulled and pushed and dragged me to the entrance, lead me through the office, and threw me in a holding cell. Only one man was there, and he looked satisfied. I sat in the corner after the officer uncuffed me.
"I'll be back," He grunted, grabbing a donut from the desk. "Watch her, I'm getting a cell ready." A young, new-looking officer nodded, eyes wide. "Don't worry," The officer laughed. "She's just a detective that pulled a gun on her colleague." His eyes grew wider as the older officer walked away laughing.
I sighed and folded my arms, leaning against the wall. "So," the other man said, "What did you get here for?"
I chuckled. "Well," I sighed. "I'm not sure, but I sort of lost it after a roller coaster of a couple months and pulled a gun on my colleague."
"Ah," He laughed. "Shouldn't mess with ya, then, eh?"
I laughed and nodded. What am I doing? Associating with a guy that could kill me?
Yes.
"So what are you in for?" I asked casually.
"Well.... robbery and... kidnapping. Really, man-napping."
I swallowed. "Who did you take?"
He looked ashamed. "I needed money for my family, you see... I met this guy on the street once when I was looking for work, and told me he'd pay a hefty price to help him get someone. Didn't wanna get caught. I felt horrible, but my family was hungry, and I just did it. He was scary, and... I didn't want him after me."
Forcing someone to do your bidding by bribe? Weird, but I have a feeling I should know more.
"What'd he look like?"
"You are such an investigator," He laughed, but look frightened. "But... in case you ever see him, he's got dark quaffed hair, and-"
He was interrupted as the former officer yanked open the door, and yelled. "Let's go, James!" He grabbed my arm and dragged me away, as the man was left behind, my curiosity raving for more information from him.
I was dragged and pulled down countless halls, before being thrown in a cell. Luckily, it was currently unoccupied. The door clanged shut, and I was left alone.
Again.
-
I peeled open my eyes again, my head still hurting like hell, to the door across from me being thrown open. I saw an unfamiliar officer, and then the man. The officer threw him in, and he hit the wall and sat.
Then he saw me. "Hey... uh, James, right?"
"That's my last name." I chuckled, standing. "What's yours?"
"Mike."
"Well, Mike," I asked. "Can you continue your description?"
"Yeah." He grunted, standing up. "He uh... had a dark black quiff, ton of tattoos and piercings, and.. um, what do you call it...."
"Was he Pakistani?" I said, my breath hitching in my throat.
"Yes! And.... he always had a gun."
I shook my head. No, it couldn't be. He hasn't had a trace on him in months... why would he show up now?
"What's wrong?" Mike asked.
"Well..." I sighed. "That man, I..... I think he's the criminal I've been looking for for months. Zayn Malik."
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