Trust me... - Riggs story

4

I walk on the beach, trying to think of places to stay.

I then see a trailer. It looks abandoned. I take a closer look.

The door opens and out comes Riggs.
"Lexie?" He asks confused. I run the opposite way. "Lexie!" He shouts running after me.

My bag hits a bruise on my leg. I stop and I hold my leg.
"Ow.." I mutter. He stands in front of me and I look up at him.

"Oh, hi, Riggs. What're you doing here?" I ask out of breath. I smile and he rolls his eyes.
"Why're you running away?" He asks neatening his hair.

"Running away? I'm not running away." I chuckle.
"Well, why'd you have a big bag?" He says looking at it. I shrug and laugh nervously. "Also, where did you get that bruise? And that cut?" He asks looking closer.

"Funny story actually. When you left, I got sent upstairs and on my way, I fell. Cut my cheek and-" I smile.
"And you fell on your eye...?" I scratch the back of my neck nervously.

"Look, Lexie," he starts and he puts his hand on my shoulder, "You can talk to me. You can trust me. If your stepdad has done anything to you, you need to say something." He says seriously.

I think for a minute.

Should I tell him? I can't trust anyone. What is my problem? I want to say something, but if he finds out I told Riggs about it, he'd absolutely kill me.

"I'm fine, Detective." I fake a smile. He clenches his jaw and looks down.
"Okay. Do you want to come to the trailer for a break from your house?" He asks and I nod.

We get into the trailer and I so down. He opens a can of beer.
"Oh, can I have one?" I ask smiling. He laughs.
"No, you can have this." He throws a bottle of soda to me.

We talk for a while and I see a rifle in the corner.
"Hey, you're not gonna shoot me are you?" I ask jokingly. He turns and looks at it, and he chuckles.
"That's my childhood memory." He looks down and smiles.

"Memory? A rifle? What sorta childhood did you have?" I laugh. "What does it remind you of?" I ask. He stands up and holds it.
"Well, this is the rifle my daddy taught me to shoot with. It's also the rifle that shot him." He mumbles the last bit.

I stare at him.
"I'm sorry, what?" I ask in disbelief. He laughs at me. "Your dad got shot?"
"Yeah.."
"You know, you can trust me. You can talk to me." I say smiling. I put my hand on his shoulder and he laughs.

"You'd be the fist person I'd talk to about it." He chuckles.
"And I don't tell people about my parents." He sighs and smiles.
"When I was about your age, my mom died. She was sick. My dad couldn't cope, so when I did something wrong, he'd use his belt and hit me." He says.

I think about my stepdad and that's what he does.
"And you shot him?"
"I didn't. My friend, Jake, shot him. Right in front of me." He stares at the floor.

I feel so bad for him.
"I'm sorry. It mustn't have been easy." I say giving him a sympathetic smile. "My dad got in a car crash. A couple of years later, my mom got cancer. My stepdad was fine when mom was around, but then when she died, he just turned..."

I realise I'm saying too much and I look at him. He's staring at me.
"Uh, I think I should go home." I say panicking. I stand up and get my bag.

"Wait, Lexie." He says standing up and grabbing my arm. He grabs a bruise and I pull my arm back.
"Ow." I mutter. He looks at me confused. He didn't even grab that hard.

"Pull up your sleeve." He says.
"There's no point."
"Pull up you sleeve." He repeats, raising his voice a little.

I raise my sleeve, revealing my bruises. I see a bruise that I didn't see before. It's a hand bruise. He looks at it closely, and touches my arm.
"Riggs, it's nothing. Just leave it." I say sighing.

"Your stepdad did this, didn't he?"
"No, he didn't." I get a little angry.
"Lexie, tell me the truth!" He shouts.
"Fine, I got in a fight!" I shout back.