Her Instinct: His Game

Chapter 32 - The Detective

This chapter was inspired by the song " Iron" by Woodkid.  Feel free to listen as you read!

I told him everything, opening up about it all. I held nothing back. From the first time it all started at that fateful sleepovers which feels like it was moons ago, to my birthday surprise, to the day we had our secret in the women's dressing room at Macy's, homecoming night. EVERYTHING.

"What?" Derek looked pale, flabbergasted.

"This whole time? How long? The whole time we were together?" he was spitting questions out at rapid speed.

"I know it's hard to believe..." I reached over to touch him but he flinched.

"Kerri, you lied to me!" he yelled in frustration. 

"What was I supposed to do? He used me."

"But you were eager to mess with him the first time." He mentioned.

"Duh! I had a crush on him!" I leaned over to Derek in the driver's seat to take his hand, "But I had no idea what I was getting into."

He rolled his eyes, pulling his hand from my grasp.  This infuriated me.

"I did it to protect my mom! Tell me, what would you do?" I folded my arms around my chest in sheer annoyance of his pissy behavior, staring outside the window at the glowing lights from the bar.

Ding, Ding

The sound of Derek's phone chiming startled us, causing us to jump.

"Kerri?" his voice was soft now, almost timid.

"What?" I asked.

His jaw dropped as he read his phone, "It's the results."

"And??" I demanded.

He started at his phone, almost in disbelief, "It's a match. His prints were all over that nail.

"Perfect!" I exclaimed. "Now we need to make sure it's her nail."

"And how in the world are we going to do that?" Derek asked.

"We have to go to the police. First thing tomorrow."

He rev the engine to his car and then stops. He looked over at me, "And Kerri?"

"Yeah?" I ask.

"I believe you and I will help you. I'm not mad, this is just a lot to take in."

I nodded, looking dow, "Thanks, Derek."

He takes my hand in his and leans into to me, "Now let's take that bastard down."

We drove off into the night, hungry for justice.

We arrived at the station, bright and early the next morning. Hoping to make it to school before the 9am bell rings. A woman at the front desk instructed to wait in a small waiting area at the station.  Derek and I stare at each other. No words were spoken, just the vibrant focusing energy of determination.

We were called into the office, Derek seemed surprised they were even willing to hear us out.

The detective looked us up and down, a smirk creeping from her stern face. "Detective Banks," she nodded before stretching out her long think arms to shake our hands, "So, what's the problem here?"