The Silver Scar

Chapter 9: Instincts

Chapter 9: Instincts

"Damn it Jenna!" Blake nearly growled. "Tell me the whole story. Not the one you think I want to hear." He slammed his hands on the metal interrogation table.

I took a deep and annoyed breath. "I told you I killed him. I told you why! Isn't that enough?" I ask him darkly. I was done talking about this. I never wanted to talk about this ever again.

"Not for me." He confessed.

I breathe through my nose, my lips tightly pressed together.

"I don't believe that you killed him Jenna. I don't. I won't put someone who is innocent in jail. I won't do it." Blake told me, his tone promising. I look him straight in the eyes.

"Then you're going to be disappointed when the murder weapon comes back with my prints all over it, Detective Blake." I assured him looking away.

Blake sits down in the chair in front of me. He places both of his hands on the table gently. "If what you're saying is true, then why won't you tell me the whole story?" He protested. "Why is it so hard for you to really confess everything?"

"I don't want to talk about that night okay? That's why. I just don't want to tell you." I hissed, looking over to him. "I don't want to relive it. Got it?" I snapped.

He let out a bitter laugh. "Well that's stupid."

I bite back my cry of frustration. "You don't get it. You never have." I asserted.

"If you really have changed Jenna, you wouldn't have fallen into my arms yesterday." He informed me. I tensed.

"Don't go there." I growl. I shake my head fiercely. "Isn't there some cop rule that people who are too involved with a case are taken off of it?" I interjected sharply.

Blake gave me a small smirk. "I pulled some strings."

"So you're a dirty cop?" I asked bitterly. "Isn't that ironic?" I say adjusting the handcuffs on my wrists. God these things are freaking ridiculous.

"I'm not a dirty cop Jenna, I'm one with good intentions."

"No, you're the one in complete denial. All of the evidence points to me." I tell him angrily. "You're too wrapped up into what we had to see what really is, Blake."

"I trust my instincts Jenna." He tells me passionately. "And I trust them when they say that you are not a bad person. That you're not a killer in your own right."

I swallow the bile that forms in my throat. "Then I guess this conversation is over then." I croak. Calm down Jenna, I tell myself. Don't let him get to you. You killed Drake. You're a killer. He doesn't know anything.

"Jenna." His voice echoed throughout the room.

He knew I wasn't going to say anything more. He stood up. I could see how tense his shoulders were and the redness that had spread in his face. He let out a short yell before throwing his chair across the room furiously. I didn't flinch. I was used to violence.

His chest heaved as he looked into my eyes. I hoped my face held a cold expression. I hope he didn't see how much this was killing me on the inside. I never wanted to hurt him. That's why I got him out of this mess. My horrible mess.

When he realized that our conversation was really over, he stormed out of the room. Not another word exchanged between the two past lovers.