Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(edited)
Sometime after our conversation, I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, it was late into the afternoon. The sunlight had started to fade, a blanket of stars starting to claim their rightful spot in the sky.
The first thing I noticed was Connor's jacket. Had I been wearing this the entire time? I slipped it from my shoulders and cradled it in my arms, running my thumb over the detailing. When I inhaled, I hadn't expected there to be a scent but surprisingly, there was. I didn't know how to explain it, but it was a pleasant mixture of all kinds of different smells: cedarwood, detergent, mint, and hot metal.
It's nice. . . Really nice. . .
I was brought out of my daze when the front door opened, followed by the sound of Connor's voice and that of Lieutenant Anderson. 'For fucks sake, Connor! First you don't return to the precinct like I told you to, then you call me hours later, telling me to meet you at some motel—!'
Hank stopped, his eyes widening once he saw me. I hugged Connor's jacket to my chest, dread turning my veins to ice. Connor had ratted me out. He was handing me over to the police. I need to get away. I need to run!
The Lieutenant turned to Connor who was standing behind him, a blank expression on his face. 'What the fuck, Connor?' he exclaimed angrily. 'You hook up with some girl and then call me? At least have the decency to deal with the situation yourself!' Hank then muttered something under his breath, placing his hands on his hips.
I am so confused right now. What's going on? Why isn't he arresting me? And why does he think that I slept with Connor?
I held my hands up. 'I can assure you that we did not hook up,' I replied defensively. 'We did nothing—absolutely nothing—of the sort.'
A flash of guilt and surprise crossed his face, and a pang of regret shot through my chest. I didn't mean to be so harsh. 'Oh. . . I'm sorry. I just assumed that. . .' He cast a look at Connor, glaring at him. 'Never mind. My apologies. . . Sorry, I don't even know your name.'
'It's Blake,' I said, dropping Connor's jacket beside me.
That means the police haven't discovered what I look like yet. The only one who knows what I did is. . . Connor.
'I'm Lieutenant Anderson, but I would prefer if you called me Hank. The whole Lieutenant thing is a little too formal for my taste.'
I cast a quick look at Connor. Why had he called the Lieutenant?
'Hank, may I speak with you for a moment?' Connor asserted, cocking his head towards the front door. He was eerily calm, his expression giving nothing away. It was a little unnerving, all things considering.
