Thorns & Oranges

Didn't Say Anything

Chapter Twelve

When I got home the next morning, there was an unmarked police car sitting on the curb. I half worried Jorge had gone and done something stupid but as I looked closer, I noticed it wasn't his car. The license plate was different.

I walked up the driveway and spotted someone standing on the porch. My eyes flicked over him and landed on the badge on his belt. The numbers were familiar and if I was good at anything, it was numbers.

Detective Houston.

I stopped and considered him for a moment until his eyes landed on me. They sharpened and looked me over, pausing on the bruise, the dark circles, and of course the split and swollen lip.

"Have a rough night, Ms. De Sota?"

"You could say that," I answered softly as I walked up the steps. "Is there a reason why you're here, Detective?"

"I need to speak with you."

"Of course you do." I leaned against the pillar across from him. "About what?" He opened the file he was holding and handed me a photo face down. "Pictures again?" I flipped it up and glanced over it. This wasn't good. "Are you here to arrest me?"

"Actually, I'm here to make you a deal."

I glanced around, looking at all the houses that surrounded my brother's. "I can't do a deal. You know that."

"I also know your eyes are dilating just fine, there were no visible injection marks on your arms when you took the photo, and you're hiding your emotions like a pro. You didn't take it. Now, I can haul you down to the station, charge you with buying illegal substances but I think we can turn this into a mutually beneficial relationship instead."

The door to my brother's house opened and Michelle stood there. She ignored the cop completely and walked over to me. She hugged me tighter than she ever had before and it made more tears cloud up my eyes. The detective, of course, didn't let this go unnoticed but stayed quiet on his side of the porch.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

I tried to sniff quietly but it didn't work. "I'm fine."

"Vin's been looking for you, Dom too. No one knew where you were. Then this..." she waved at the detective behind her "...showed up, flashing his badge and demanding to talk to you. Said he wouldn't leave until you got home. I didn't know what to do and you had me worried sick—"

My face screwed up to the one I used for crying.

"Oh. Oh, don't do that," she whispered. "Don't cry."

I took a deep breath, sucking it all back in, and nodded. "Ok."

She covered her mouth and looked at me with worry. "Where were you?"

"Around."

"Around where?"

"Just around."

"Emelina, tell me where you were!"

My eyes ticked to the detective but he only looked at me with a passive aggressive expression. He knew this was part of staying clean. You weren't supposed to have secrets concerning your addiction and if you slipped up, you were supposed to admit it. You were to tell the truth as much of it as humanly possible.

"I slipped up..."

Before I could get the full explanation out, she slapped me across the face. Well at least she was expecting it of me. I didn't know how to feel about that.