Different

Chapter Eight

   I had trouble sleeping that night, going through all the reasons as to why Ry would want me to lie to the cops. None of them were good. Why would he care if they knew about the rantings of someone who was most likely insane?

   I didn't want morning to come. I wanted to stay under the cover of night until I figured out why and who and what. But time stoped for no one and with the morning sun came the police and, much to my surprise, Ry O'Neil.

I raised an eyebrow at him when he walked in. He looked like he had gotten as much sleep as I had.

"Miss Thompson?" There were two cops. One was a big burly guy. He was young. In his twenties maybe. Another was a tall brunette. She looked older. In her forties.

The older one passed Ry a glance. "Your, um, cousin, insisted on being here. This is alright with you?"

The lady looked like she didn't give a damn about who he was or if I cared that he was here. As much as I wanted to rebel against Ry, say no and kick him out, his presence was a comfort. "He's fine."

She nodded, taking out her clip board. "Alright, so I just need-"

   The door flew open and my dad practically fell into the room. "Brooke? Honey, I am so sorry I'm late. I just got here."

Dad looked like shit.

His normally neat hair was sticking up in more directions than one. His suit was wrinkled. His eyes were bloodshot. "Rough day at work?"

Dad glanced down at his appearance then shrugged. "Not as rough of a day as you had."

I laughed at that. "You're probably right."

The older cop sighed at the interruption. "This is your legal guardian I assume?" I nodded and she scribbled something down on the paper.

I glanced over at Ry only to find him starring my dad. His face was pale and his eyes wide as he watched my father rake a hand down his face before sitting.

I coughed slightly, trying to gain his attention. He reluctantly pulled his eyes away from my father and fixated them on me. I gave him a look then nodded my head towards Dad. Ry held my eyes for what seemed like eternity, searching. He must have found something to his pleasing because he gave a slight shake of his head and sank lower into his chair, eyes on the floor.

"Okay. I need you to tell me what happened. Don't leave anything out." The female officer's bored inquiry forced my attention back to her.

A sick feeling settled in my stomach as I knew I was going to leave everything out. All of the important stuff at least. "I was walking out of the library and this guy asked me for help carrying a-"

"What did he look like?" The big man's deep voice interrupted me and I shrugged.

"I don't know. He was short and skinny. Brown hair. Average face." I closed my eyes, thinking hard. "He had glasses. There was a freckle on his cheek and he wore a ring."

   "Can you describe the ring?"

   I shook my head. I had been too busy fighting for my life.

   The man nodded as the woman continued to scribble on her notepad. "Anything else significant about him?"

   I started to shake my head then stopped. "Oh! Yes! He had an accent."

   The woman looked up. "An accent?"

   I nodded. "It was weird. I've never heard one like it before."