Part Two
Warmth spreads over my eyelids like a blanket, stirring me awake. As I open my eyes the light pours in from the drawn curtains. I groan, flipping onto my stomach and squeezing my eyes as they begin to burn. Sliding my hand across the right side of the bed, I mumble a good morning, but falter when I realize the bed's empty.
Again.
My eyes snap open despite the harsh sunlight, staring at his side of the bed, which was perfectly made, fluffed pillows and all. An unusual laugh escapes me as I sit up, one of understanding and expectation. Of course. Once more he found a way to convince me that he would change, that he was sorry. I fell right into him, his mesmerizing lies. Stupidly, I went against the facts and he brainwashed me into forgiving him.
I brush my hair out of my face, take a deep breath and scream. When I finish I'm out of breath and still angry. Instincts want to lull me back to the comfort of my king sized bed, but I refuse and wrap the sheets around my bare body. Before I can even stand there's a knock on the door. My eyebrows raise in shock and I scramble to my feet in search of decent clothes. We never really get visitors, especially since Dylan's such an asshole.
Another knock on the door sounds urgent, so I forget trying to find clothes and rush to the front of the apartment, clutching the sheets tightly. Whoever is there will have to deal with it.
There are two officers with grim expressions standing in the doorway when I open it, and they come inside without permission, heading into the kitchen. My first thought is how rude. The second causes my cheeks to flush. Then negative thoughts immediately fill my mind, kicking out the embarrassment. To avoid panicking I try to clear my head, and I close the door behind me as I trail them. Is he okay? Repeats over and over in my head, regardless.
"Harley Cooper?" The woman questions, pulling a small notepad out of her pocket, followed by a pen. She begins to click it habitually as she waits for my response. I gulp, watching her thumb repeatedly click the pen. The noise distracts me, as does the tapping of the other officer's foot. My heartbeat is suddenly noticeable. A chill spreads through my body.
"Miss Cooper?" She reiterates, looking at me with a frown.
I glance up at their sober faces, "Yes, yes that's me," My eyes travel to the banged up badge pinned to her chest. I wonder how it got that way.
"My name is Special Agent Garcia," She pauses, motioning to her partner. "This is Special Agent Dinozo. Do you know why we're here?"
Without thinking I blurt out, "Isn't it your job to know?" Special Agent Dinozo chuckles into his fist, but Garcia doesn't find it as funny. Her face is in a permanent scowl it seems. I apologize quickly, studying her face to try and guess why they're here. She suggests I sit down, so I lead them into the living room and sit on the sofa rigidly, forgetting that I'm wearing a sheet. My head is spinning.
"When was the last time you saw Dylan Vanier?" And then I calmed.
"This is a joke, right? He's always gone!" I laugh lightly, but when they don't join in I stop. Dylan was never there when I woke up, I'd actually be surprised if he was. He has his own agenda, which apparently didn't include me. Whatever he was doing while he wasn't with me I wouldn't know, because he doesn't talk about it anyway. But he always came back. That was the only thing I could count on with him. Today he'll come back, drunk perhaps, at around ten o'clock. He has to. He can't-
