Raising Hell

9. How to Run From the Mess You Made

With my coffee in hand, we approach the precinct. I try not to make eye contact a sketchy-looking character passes by me. As he passes, I swear that there is a bright, red rune on his neck. I do a double-take, but the rune is gone when I look back at the man. Either I didn't get enough sleep, or I am going crazy.

"So," I turn back to Clary, Luke, and Jace. "The plan is to turn me in for Lyla's murder? Why can't he just go in and grab the cards?"

"I've been gone for days and all my witnesses have died," Luke explains. "I need someone to pin the murders on for now so that they can get off my back."

"And why does this person have to be me?" I ask.

"Because you're already a suspect," Jace states. "You knew Lyla—"

"But I didn't have any connections to the other victims or any of the witnesses." I take another sip of coffee, the steam from the hot beverage hitting me in the face.

"Just trust us, Rae," Clary says. "We just need to distract everyone long enough for Luke to get the cards."

I nod and hand Jace my coffee. He scoffs and sets it on the top of a cop car. Luke gently pulls my hands behind my back, placing handcuffs around my wrists.

"There are about a hundred jokes I could make right now," I murmur. Though my voice is quiet, I know that he hears me with his freaky werewolf hearing.

"And I appreciate you not sharing any of them," Luke comments. "Let's do this."

"You guys promise that I'm not going to go to prison?" I question them. "Don't get me wrong, I'm okay with a little risk. I just want to make sure we know what we're doing."

Jace shrugs. "There is a chance that you won't go to prison."

I raise my eyebrows at him. "You're lucky that I'm handcuffed right now."

Clary chuckles. "You're going to be fine, Rae. I promise." She pats my arm as Luke begins to bring me towards the doors.

Luke leads me into the precinct, his hand staying on my shoulder. We go down the hall and to his desk, catching multiple stares from multiple officers. I try not to think about the potentially dangerous situation I am going to find myself in.

"Detective Garroway?" A tall woman in a pantsuit approaches us. A balding man stands next to her, looking smug. "What do we have here?"

"I detaining the suspect for Lyla Robertson's murder," Luke explains. "Who is this?"

"His name is Fisk. Internal affairs," She says, earning an angry look from Luke as Fisk approaches him. "My hands are tied. You're gonna have to cooperate."

Luke lets go of my shoulders and two cops immediately seize me and begin pulling me away. I fight against them, trying to break free, but the men are too strong. Luke stares after me with wide eyes as his badge and gun are taken and he is taken away by some more officers.

The men take us down a narrow hallway, roughly pulling my arms as I continue to struggle. They bring us all the way to interrogation rooms, throwing us into two separate rooms. As they get me into the room, I manage to free an elbow and send it to an officer's nose. He immediately drops my arm, clutching his face. I swing my hands, hitting the other officer in the jaw. I try to run out of the room but a bigger, meaner officer blocked the door. Without hesitation, I send a kick between his legs. He goes to his knees and I send another kick to his head. He hits the ground with a loud thud.

As soon as I'm free from the room, I take off running. As I'm about to reach the door, a body connects with mine and I drop to the ground. Two pairs of hands grab my shoulders and drag me back towards the room. This time, I'm unable to fight them off as they throw me into the room and handcuff me to the table. I pull against the handcuffs, causing the skin on my wrists to become tender and eventually start bleeding.