Bad Enough For You (Alex Gaskarth Fan Fiction)

The Suited Man

               A growl like sound is produced in the back of Mike’s throat and he thrusts his arm to Jack and swings him around. “Tell us Jack!” Mike’s eyes are wide and wild and his mouth waters for the thirst of this oh so desperate and important information.

               Jack yanks his arm away and glares at him. “They called me.”

               “And?” Jaime chimes in, half frustrated that none of us were also notified.

               “I don’t know –” Jack starts.

               “How don’t you know?” Tony half shouts.

               “All I know is they said it’s urgent so stop wasting your time questioning me and lets go question the ones who actually have a damn clue of what’s going on right now.” Jack spins on his heels and takes long strides through the door with us closely behind. The woman behind the desk recognizes us and sees the urgency and calls back to someone who then rushes through the door to my right.

               His hair is dark as his pale hand waves us to follow him down the bland hallway. He leads us to an office like room with four other men in there with us. All of them are obvious police workers.

               “What the hell is going on?” Zack mutters from under his breath.

               “We’ve found her.” One of the men says, his hands folded neatly behind his back. My fingers and toes tingles and my stomach rolls inside of me.

               “Where is she?” I ask as I jump out of my seat, tears brimming on my eyes. Vic catches his breath in his throat.

               The black hair man holds up a thin finger. “We also found out what happened.” I take my seat quickly and look around at the guys. Some of them are leaning forward with interest and curiosity and some of them are looking straight ahead as if they’re deer that was caught by headlights. Tears brim on my eyes as I draw my attention back to the crow-like man. “Are you prepared for this?”

               “We’re ready.”

               The men rustle papers around and read over them quickly, making the small seconds in between ever so excruciating that I think I might blow up.

               He sighs. “She did not simply just run off, which although it was obvious, it’s our job to prove so. Your friend, Alexia?” He looks at the other men and they nod in assurance that he has the right name. “She was part of this, and I’m sorry.”

               A blonde haired man clears his throat. “We found Riley about two hours west from here in a very old, very dull house with a man.” He purses his lips. “She was found unconscious, nude, and chained to the basement floor. Her surroundings weren’t in any better condition.”

               He flips through his manila folder and places a few photographs in my hands to look through and pass around to the guys. I hear his voice, I really do. But as soon as I see where My Riley was, all sense of everything is gone as I witness her most recent home.

               The floor is both a combination of concrete and dirt. The dirt fills the many cracks and hiatuses that separate the chunks of concrete. There’s a good number of pillars surrounding and spot with a chain on the ground, rusted and broken up. My tears drown out any voice I could have given as I roll through the pictures. The next one shows a bruised and tattered ankle that despite my wishes to deny it, belongs to My Riley. It’s swollen and I feel my heart start to beat faster and I quickly hand off the photograph.

               I groan at the next one. It’s her. It’s Riley. But it’s not her. Her beauty is smothered in her swollen cheek, bloodied lip, bruised temple, and bloodied nose. Her eyes are closed, supporting the fact that she was found unconscious. My stomach churns some more and I hand this photo off, leaving my hands empty.

               “The man who worked alongside with Alexia is being charged with assault, rape, and –”

               “Rape?” Vic shouts and from the corner of my eye I see him lunge from his seat. My hands ball into fists and start shaking.

               “And your friend is being charged with association.” He continues on anyways, ignoring our reactions. “Now, if you need some time before we identify this man, I can have us leave the room, have some water brought to you.”

               “No.” I say loudly. This is the most powerful I’ve heard my voice be in a long time. “Now.”

               The man tightens his lips together into a tired, flat line as he flips through the manila folders. He gives us one last glance before placing the photograph onto the table right side down.

               “The man is in custody,” He reassures as Vic lunges toward the picture, giving me no time to tell my legs to move. I doubt they would be working anyhow. I hear air hitch in Jack and Vic’s throats. Jack’s eyes are wide and his teeth are clenched, his knuckles turning snow white.

               “Jack,” I call in hopes of getting the photograph passed to me next. He nods, eyes blank as he steals it from Vic and places it into my shaking hands. I flip the picture right side up to myself and come face to face with the bastard himself.

               “As -”

               “Ashton.” I interrupt the suited man.