Laine Transformation

Chapter Twelve

The rest of the night blurs together while my head spins. I try to piece together what just happened in my mind and force myself to be able to describe it to everyone else. People keep coming over to me like a the front door is a revolving one. As soon as one or two people leave, more come.

I'm sitting on Billie's couch by myself while the investigators ask questions. I can see Potter in my peripheral vision but I can't focus on anyone right now.

The ambulance comes and goes, but I refuse to ride it to the emergency room. Instead, there's photos taken and a couple of bandages set in place.

The police tell me I don't have to visit the station tonight but I want it to be over so I go. Potter sits in the back of the car with me and for what seems like hours we go over my personal hell.

I can't keep myself together while he's in the room, the police ask him to leave towards the beginning of the story so I can finish my statement. He's hesitant at first but agrees to it. I feel like I'm crazy and I'm spitting out crazy talk.

I'm exhausted and falling asleep at the end. We sit in the back of the squad car while the police drive us to the crime scene, formerly known as my apartment for evidence and pictures.

"How are you doing in all of this?" Potter asks. He kindly tries to hold my hand but it's still trembling as I pull away. I'm still in shock I think.

"I don't know how to answer that question yet." I say faintly. I feel like a ghost now, lifeless from hunger and dehydration.

"My house is a crime scene." I plainly state out loud. I have to speak out loud or it doesn't seem real.

"You can stay with me." He offers. I think over his invitation. It's really hitting me now that I'm responsible for putting him in danger. My poor choice of a person I had in my left affected him. Potter didn't sign up for having his life be put in danger on my account.

"You don't have to do that, I can't ask you to do anymore for me."My heart pounds hard with my newly found guilt. Without skipping a beat, he pulls me in for a hug.

"This is not your fault. Not even by a long shot." He's sincere with his words and they're soothing. We finally pull up towards my house and I'm both relieved and unsettled. A part of me didn't think I'd ever see home again, but a part of me is sure I'll never fully feel safe here.

The cops take samples and pictures of the forced entry through my bedroom window and further statements. I sit uneasy on the couch running through the motions . They finally thank me for my time and apologize for the event.

"They need to go to my apartment to collect the video footage. I've already given my statements. Come with me?" Potter asks. I agree because I'm terrified of being alone tonight.

I follow him back into the car and up the street. I take my purse with me full of necessities I'd been deprived of for the last two days.

"Darren's going to be furious that I haven't finished the piece for the website." I mumble to myself while turning on my phone. He places his arm around me.

"I'm sure he'll cut you some slack given the circumstances." Potter comforts me further and I wrap my hand in his.

When the car parks, the officer lets us out of the back and Potter walks straight into the pizza shop, stopping at a door in the back. He unlocks it effortlessly, like he'd done it plenty of times before, and steps in. A couple noises come from the room and Potter walks back out with a jump drive a few minutes later.