The Suspect

Chapter 6

"Oh, you really weren't kidding about the reflex were you?"

I turn to see none other than Tatum Black in the flesh. Anger courses through me, but I try to look and stay composed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I shriek and distance myself from him.

"Your punches hurt like a bitch, god." he curses and massages his jaw.

"I would think a woman would be crazy to not punch one that yanks her in the middle of the night," I raise my voice gradually, emphasizing the last few words.

I squint my eyes, trying to get a better look at the man in front of me in the dark. Through my vision; he looks...like a mess. His stubble is all grown out, his hair is all over the place and his eyes have bags underneath. He's wearing a dark sweatshirt with grey joggers, and what surprises me the most is how he pulls off the comfy look as well as the smart.

"Figures," he mutters and runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

I sigh in frustration, "What are you doing here?"

"So," he drags out the word, "It seems as though we have a problem," he states and I throw my head back in laughter.

"Oh really?" I cross my arms over my chest and try and let him catch on, "Please, enlighten me."

He stares at me in confusion, his blue eyes gleaming under the moonlight, "Oh, don't play stupid you know exactly what I'm talking about."

I drop the act and poke his chest with two fingers, hard enough to make him stumble back, "Yeah, no shit," I curse.

God, I have so many questions for him, I don't even know where to begin. Where has he been this past week? Is he really Tyler's brother? If he is, how have I not heard about him before? What is he doing here?

"You're strong," he breathes, rubbing his chest with his hand. I shoot a glare at him and give my best "really?" look.

I haven't even known this man for more than a few hours and he's already screwing with my head.

"I assume you have a few questions for me?" he simply asks, almost too innocently and I turn around to face him.

I slowly step towards him, closing the distance between us. "A few?" step "Really?" step

"A few wouldn't even cover what is going through my head right now," I finally reach him, my eyes leveled with his nose.

"I-"

"No," I cut him off. "What are you doing here? Where have you been this past week? Are you even aware you're the lead suspect in one of the hardest cases ever?"

He falters as if I just hit him with something. He blinks hard, shaking his head once.

"Of course I know," he sighs, almost in pain, "That's where I need your help. I really do."

I scoff, almost a little too loudly at his eminent stupidity. Who does he think he is, to show up not one but five days later and demand my help when I don't even know if he's a two-faced liar.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" I snap and throw my hands in the air.

"Deadly," he asserts.

God, I want to punch him not once but countless times. At least that would knock some sense into his already, seemingly deficit brain.

"You know what's funny?" I ask him and he's about to speak when I cut his slow-witted mouth off, "What's funny is how you think I'm going to be ready to help you after all you have done is lie to me about who you are. What I find even funnier is how stupid you look standing in front of me right now, demanding a person you barely even know or let alone are not even sure you can trust, to help you," I amuse and look at his blank face.