Never Forever

Chapter. 19 Arrested

Tracker stares at me for a full minute. I could only stare back. It felt so nice to finally tell someone what is going on-even if it's only a little piece of the story. A very tiny piece.
"You mean that guy Nick?" He asks finally. "He's been hunting you?" I nod. "For how long?"
"Not sure." I shrug. "Many years."
"Did he do... that to your eyes?" Tracker points.
"I think so." Tracker sits back and rubs his jaw.
"Did this all begin when you were in the... sex trade?" I nod. "You're not being very productive with your answers." He complains. I almost laugh, despite the situation.
Could I tell him everything? I guess he deserves it since he blurted his whole story to me. Though his didn't take place three hundred years ago. The sense of loneliness hits me again. I wanted to desperately tell him everything, but... how would he react? Would he call me looney? Crazy? Insane? Cuckoo?
I have proof, don't I? I could show him everything. Relieve myself of these secrets-verbally. To someone other than a book that doesn't care.
Tracker watched me patiently. He could probably see the battle going on in my head. His grass green eyes so soft and understanding.
"Okay..." I sigh. "I will tell you." And I did. Of how Nick won my trust and took me prisoner in a sex trade community, testing experiments on me and thinking he was doing the right thing for womankind. I told of how I escaped and went into hiding, thinking that Nick would give up and leave me alone. 
But I did not tell Tracker that it took place a few hundred years ago. Or of my immortality. Or that he was related to one of the men who worked there. Tracker interrupted me often to ask questions and I answered as truthfully as I could manage.
"So did some of his experiments work?" He asks after I was done.
"Um, yeah, most of them." My eyes dart around the kitchen as I speak. I need to steer the subject around me, avoiding certain topics. Like this one.
"And that's why you don't trust my brother-because he's a scientist." Tracker continues. I nodded, distracted by the fridge.
"Have you had breakfast?" I ask, opening up the double doors.
"I'm good, thanks. I ate hours ago." He answers. Aren't you a little sunflower. Too lazy to make a real meal, I take out the vanilla yogurt and grab granola. Tracker watches me in silence as I mix the two together in a bowl.
"So what are we gonna do now?" He asks after a bit. I take a mouthful of cereal as I think about the answer. Wait, we? I can't do this with him. As much as I wished I could. Nick would use him against me-just like he tried to do before. Gah, I hate Nick.
"I want to help you." Tracker says firmly, as if reading my thoughts.
"I have to do this alone." I empty my bowl and set it in the sink.
"But you can't take him on alone."
"I can and I will." I stride to the stairs. Tracker follows. I get to my room and rummage around until I find my gun.
"You're just one girl, why don't you call the police? They can handle it." Tracker  stands in the doorway.
"No. This is something they cannot handle. They'd just call me looney and throw me in a nut house." I check to make sure it's fully loaded, before brushing past him.
"Why would they call you looney? Is there something you're not telling me? You haven't told me the whole story, have you?" He follows me back down the stairs where I continue out the door. Tracker's vehicle sat parked in front. I go past it and climb onto my motorcycle. There was no point in saying I wasn't hiding something from him.
"Please. You could be killed!" Tracker tried again, setting a hand on my own which gripped the handle. I force myself not to look into his soft green eyes. What he said couldn't be further from the truth.
"No I won't." The bike roars to life.
"Jacey," His voice held desperation, "I can't just let you go running into trouble."
"And I can't let you get involved." I finally look over at him. "I can't live like this anymore. Hiding and running." I add quietly. He opens his mouth to reply but I twist the handle and shoot out of the driveway.
But I don't get far. Cop cars came streaming in. They come to a skidding halt when they see me. Leaping out of their vehicles, they pointed guns at me.
"Put your hands on your head and get on the ground!" I swallow and do as I'm told. What the heck is going on? They surround me and one jerks my arms behind my back and shackles them together.
"What's happening?" I ask, bewildered. "You, Jacey Stone, are under arrest for hitting and running." A middle aged male cop responds, yanking me up and pushing me roughly into a squad car.
"I did no such thing!" I exclaim.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will be, used against you." He slams the door. I scowl at the glass. What is he talking about? I racked my brain, trying to remember if I had hit anyone recently. Two cops were drilling Tracker by his SUV. Seeming satisfied, they turn and go to their own cars. Tracker looks to where I am, but I knew he could not see me due to the tinted glass. His expression is unreadable.
~~~
"Wait here." A buff cop shoves me into a chair in an office and leaves. I let out a breath and look around. It was a nice spacious office with a big desk with a trophy of a football player on the corner. A small bookcase leaned against the wall to my right, packed with books on murder mysteries, cop stories, and parenting advice. Wait. Parenting advice? On my left were file cabinets that would have been quite bland if it wasn't for the pink and purple stickers decorating the lower half. A small wave of sadness washed over me. This man had a daughter that will probably be in his life forever. She won't be taken by some psycho scientist when she's seventeen and experimented on like a lab rat. Because I'm going to kill him. He may be immortal, but I'm still gonna kill him.
"Okay..." I jump as the chief of police walks in and sits behind his desk. Maybe mid forties with greying hair, a few wrinkles around his eyes which were bright grey and sparkling. He unfolds a report and looks over at me. I just stare back.
"My name is Officer Cash, I will be doing the interviewing. Now, where were you on the night of July 22nd?" He got right to business. Just coming back from the cemetery where I had dumped a body in a vacant hole.
"I was home."
"Do you have anybody who can clarify that?" He asks, picking up a pen.
"No. I live alone."
"Really? No boyfriend? Lover?"
"No." I said that a little more bitterly than I meant. He flips through the report.
"There was a car wreck on the 22nd sometime in the early morning. A drunk man was found in one but the other vehicle was empty with the license plate missing." He holds up a picture. I can see my car, burnt and in pieces with another car overturned a few feet away with its hood smashed in. Ugh. Not this.
"And you think it's mine?" I cock an eyebrow.
"There was an eyewitness. She gave us this." He held up another picture and I had to force myself not to stiffen. I had my back to the camera and was dragging the man from his car. Thank goodness my face wasn't showing.
"The witness had dropped her phone before getting off another shot, but she did manage to give us some good details." He sticks the picture back into the folder. "You're house in not that far from the crash sight." My whole being was hot and tingly. This was not the way my day was supposed to go.
"The witness described a young girl of about twenty with long brown hair and wearing pyjamas." I wanted to go rip that women's eyeballs out of her skull.
"Oh. And another thing; a body was found dumped in the local cemetery a few miles from the crash. Shot in the back and nothing stolen."
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Thanks for reading!!:) if you've come this far, Then I must be doing something right;)