Ready To Run // h.s

thirty eight

Mia Miles

"Ma'am, we are here with the Philadelphia police department. Is your husband home, Mrs. Miles?"

My mouth was completely dry. After what all went down at the gala, I was almost certain that nobody was going to come and rescue me, and now there were suddenly ten policemen standing at my doorstep at seven in the morning.

"M-my husband?" I squeaked, suddenly feeling completely overexposed in just my sweats and a tank top that I had worn to bed.

"Yes, we are looking for Mr. Matthew Miles. Is he home?" The same policeman asked.

"H-he just left for work about ten minutes ago," I said, chewing on my bottom lip nervously. "What do you need him for?"

"We have a warrant here that states our ability to search the house. We believe that there are criminal activities taking place here and need to do a thorough search of the property."

Before I could even say anything (because my throat felt like it was closing up like an allergic reaction and my body was completely frozen in place from shock), every policemen had entered into the entryway. Rosita, who was standing behind me, pulled me back so that all of the men could get into the house. I was still dumbfounded at how many policemen had come and shocked at the fact that someone had actually called the police to rescue me.

"While the rest of my men search the property, I need to speak with you in private. My name is Officer Jones and I am the chief of police. Is there somewhere we can sit so I can ask you a few questions?" Officer Jones kept his tone friendly, but I could tell that he meant business. He most likely needed to speak with me in regards to the contract that must have been reported by either Harry Styles or Niall Horan. I didn't care who had done it, I was just so relieved.

"You can go into the study," Rosita spoke up for me. I hadn't even realized that many seconds had gone by and I still hadn't given the officer an answer. She took me by the hand and began to lead me toward the study room, my whole body still stiff with the shock of what was going on.

Once Rosita had guided us both into the study room, I sat down on a lounge chair opposite Officer Jones. He had pulled out a notepad and pen from somewhere inside the vest he was wearing, prepared to take notes on whatever I told him. I gulped with slight fear of saying something completely wrong as Rosita left the room without another word, closing the door behind us.

"I want to start off with some easier questions," Officer Jones began. "But first, what happened to your eye?"

With all the commotion that had been going on for the past few minutes, the last thing that was on my mind was the faded purple color surrounding my swollen shut eyeball. I nervously toyed with the strings on the waistband of my sweatpants.

"I..." My mind was going completely blank. "Did Harry Styles call you? Is that why you're here?"

"Yes," Officer Jones nodded. Hearing that confirmation from him made me feel like a thousand bricks were being lifted off my shoulders. "The situation regarding the forced marriage was brought to our attention, and he was at our department answering questions only a few hours ago. We left him at the station to come directly here once he gave us all the information he knew. Do you mind if I record this conversation?"