I Trust You

Cell Mate

"You can't put me in here!"

Grace jerks, her eyes fluttering open as she quickly wobbles up off the steel jail bench.

"You have no right!"

Grace squints, quickly placing her dry hand against her eyes.

"Ah..." She groans, watching as the blurred figure slowly comes into focus.

"What are you looking at?" The figure grates, taking a step towards her.

Grace flinches back.

"Whatever." He spits, stomping over to the steel bench, the one furthest from Grace.

From the corner of her eye, Grace spots his dirty white combat boots, army shorts and white shirt. His pale brown eyes flicker to Grace before they harden and look out towards the busy police station. The scent of cigarettes wafts around the room as his dark chocolate skin shines under the stations bright lights. A second passes as Grace's eyes zeros in on a splatter of red on his white shirt.

Is that blood?

Grace shoves herself deep into the bars, her knees knocking.

Breathe. Breathe.

Grace turns around, throwing her hands through the bar cages, trying to catch one of the officers attention. Finally a greying, beefy man with sun spots waltz over, his hand on his holster.

"What?" He says, his voice thin and brittle.

"Um, have you seen my friend?" Grace gulps, pushing her hair back.

"The one with the red hair?"

"Yes, yes."

"She left."

Grace hears the sound of her heart drop, her eyes lower before they find the man's again.

"She left with some guy in a fancy car."

John?

"Why would they leave me?" She whispers, tightly gripping the bars.

"Maybe they know you're a lost cause, dolly." He deeply laughs. "You messed with a powerful woman. Out of all the people you could have hit you chose her.Ha. Good luck to you."

He throws her a meaningful look before sauntering off to the group of officers huddled around a table.

"Powerful woman?" Grace mutters hoarsely, dropping herself onto the bench.

"The system always works against the one with the lesser power, doesn't it?"

Grace watches as chocolate skinned man walks over, his boots hitting against the floor. He plops down on the bench beside Grace his thin mouth stretching into a smirk.

"I don't know." Grace whispers, playing with her fingers.

"What'd you do?" He asks, his voice sultry.

"What?"

"What did you do to this powerful woman?" He teases, crossing his arms.

Grace turns her gaze away from him and eyes the strange smudge on her dress.

"I slapped her." She gently answers.

"Really?" He laughs. "What for? Did she steal your parking space?"

Grace gives him the stinky eye.

"No, it was over shoes." She mumbles, shame thick over her head. "Stupid Gucci shoes I can't even afford."

"If you can't afford it why were you in the shop anyway, huh?" He mutters, leaning back.

"What do you mean?" Grace glances at him, her head whirling as the memories slowly trickle in. "You know what I don't owe you anything and we're definitely not playing 20 questions."

"You sound kind of defensive." He mutters, nodding his head. "A sign that you're either guilty or hiding something. Which is it?"

Grace scoffs, shaking her head wildly.

"I said I don't owe you an explanation." Grace rubs a hand over her nose. "I should be asking you why you have blood on your shirt."

His mouth turns into a sneer and Grace watches as he slowly clenches and unclenches his hand.

"It's not blood...it's paint." He mutters, his lips tight.

"Said every serial killer ever."

Grace crosses her arms, silently smiling that the tables have been flipped.

Yeah, let's talk about you, sonny boy.

"I'm not a serial killer." He jokes, suddenly grinning. "I'm just a lover of art."

And completely bipolar.

"Okay..." Grace drawls out, looking back at the station doors, praying that a familiar bed of red hair would waltz in. "So, why would an artist be in jail."

"Jail? No, we're not there yet." He teases, giving her a knowing look. "And I would hardly call this little room with bars and metal benches a jail."

Grace lifts a brow.

"Fine, it's jail like. You do know how the law works around here?" He scoots closer, placing his arm over Grace's shoulder. "To summarise it: We stay here till the court decides our fate. If they decide we're a hot mess and need a lengthy 'time out', then we go to actual jail."

Grace shakes him off.

"I know how the system works, thank you." Grace stands, leaning against the bars. "It's just...I'm scared and when you sacred you blow things out of proportion. There is still a chance that I might land up in jail."

"True."

They settle into a deep silence before Grace sits back down.

"If you tell me why you're here I'll answer your questions."

He cocks his brow.

"What makes you think I'm interested in anything you have to say?"

"I don't know....you just seem like the nosy type." Grace mutters, playing with a loose string hanging off her dress.

"Fine." He finally says. "But make your self comfortable this ones going to be doozy."

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Hey Luvies,

11k! I said 11k! Like what?!?! Get outta here😭😭.

I just wanted to thank ALL of you guys for your support. I'm literally shook. ♥️

Today was quite a short chapter but Monday's one...😬😂 I kind of got carried away so it's extra long.

Anywho, again, thank you guys so much and don't forget to Vote, Comment and SHARE THE LOVE!

Have an awesome weekend.