Solace In The Silence ✓✓

chapter 7

"HOW ARE YOU feeling?" Jake asked me softly. His fingers skimmed the nape of my neck as he kept his arm around me, and I felt myself margically relax into his touch.

Tension had been twisting in my stomach since we'd arrived at the local police department.
"I just want to go home," I muttered, studying the untouched Styrofoam cup of coffee that had been placed in front of me earlier.

Throughout the whole procedure of making a formal statement, my gaze had been alternating between the flimsy white cup and the overhead ceiling fan inside the interview room that whirred noisily.

When the officer asked for my consent to take photographs of the black and purple bruises that had bloomed on my arms, Jake had squeezed my hand in reassurance. He also bristled when I described in more detail what Joe had done-what he'd tried to do.

Despite the fact that it had only happened a couple of hours ago, my brain had already begun to swallow the traumatic memory. Only the fragments lingered, and those unforgettable, harrowing green eyes.
Now, as I waited for her to return, I twisted my fingers together until they were pale and numb.

There was a god-awful dread that snaked around my torso, tightening and suffocating me, almost like I couldn't suck in a breath deep enough. I hadn't felt like this since my brother had died, and that thought threatened to break through my walls.

When the door finally opened, I straightened in my seat, ignoring the sting of pain in the base of my skull-where I had cracked it on Joe's jawbone.

"Sorry for the holdup." She sank back down in front of me, and I registered the polished name tag on her uniform, how engraved in block letters was S. LAMPARD. She was a tallish woman, willowy, with short black hair that was pinned off her face. The shadows beneath her eyes suggested that she frequently worked the night shift.

"So, given that we already know who the assailant is from the name and description you've given us, identity procedures shouldn't need to be carried out, which is good."

I tensed, and so did Jake, who was still sitting beside me, his forearms resting on the table. Sensing that whatever she said next would determine how they were going to handle this, I steeled myself, air catching in my throat.

"But it's too early to tell in the investigation if the defendant will be charged. You fought him off before he was able to carry out whatever he'd been planning, possibly injuring him in the process. He may only receive a warning, but if there's enough evidence to prosecute, if he has a criminal history or an arrest warrant, there might be a court hearing and..."

It was then my brain decided to totally shut down. I just nodded and forced myself to at least appear like I was listening, but I wasn't.

Only two thoughts drummed into me repeatedly. I'll have to tell my parents, to deal with their overprotectiveness. And: What am I going to do if Joe confronts me about this?

Nervously, I tugged at a loose thread on the sleeve of the pullover Jake had given me to wear after he'd ransacked his truck.

Officer LAMPARD must have detected my unease because her gaze flickered expectantly to jake.

"Is there someone that the Miss can stay with tonight?"

Although the question wasn't directed at me, it was about me, and I felt the need to respond.
"Um, well-"
"-she's going to spend the night with me, ma'am,"
Jake told her and sent me a look that shut me up.

Holy hell.

It was incredibly inappropriate that my heart did a little cartwheel inside my chest, especially considering the reason that I needed to stay with him in the first place.