Maybe I Was Wrong (Teen Wolf: Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter 59

Hi! Apologies for being so late, I've been very busy.

Trigger warning: mentions of sexual assault

*

“So this kid's the real killer?” Mr. Stilinski asks, giving Scott, Stiles and I a sceptical look. We’re gathered around his desk, a mess of documents, pictures and notes everywhere.

“Yeah,” Stiles says.

“No,” his dad deadpans.

“Yes!” Stiles yells.

“No.”

“Dad, come on. Everybody knows that the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So all he had to do is, like, look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common,” Stiles explains.

“Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter Kara wasn't in Harris's class,” Mr. Stilinski says.

“All right, okay, you're right, sorry,” Stiles says. “Then I guess they dropped the charges against him?”

“No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges. But that doesn't prove anything.”

Stiles wants to protest, but his dad cuts him off immediately.

“Scott, do you believe this?” he asks.

“It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us,” Scott says. “We know it's Matt.”

I think both Stiles and Scott expect me to talk and support them, but I stay quiet.

“Yeah, he took Harris's car, okay?” Stiles says. “Look, he knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders, and that if enough of the victims were in Harris's class, that they'd arrest him.”

“All right, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive. I mean, why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and its coach dead?” Mr. Stilinski asks.

“Isn't it obvious? Our swim team sucks! They haven't won in, like, six years, Stiles says. “Okay, we don't have a motive yet. I mean, come on, does Harris?”

“What do you want me to do?” his dad asks. “I mean, Grace, do you have anything to add to this?”

I tense up.

If I told them about... what happened, Matt could be more easily be arrested. And maybe Mr. Stilinski would realise what kind of person Matt is.

“No,” I say. “I don’t.”

“We need to look at the evidence,” Scott says.

“Yeah, that would be in the station, where I no longer work,” Mr. Stilinski retorts.

“Trust me, they'll let you in,” Stiles says.

“Trust you?” his dad asks.

“Trust- trust Scott?” Stiles tries.

“Scott I trust,” he nods, and that’s how we all end up in the man’s car together. I expected Stiles to drive shotgun, but for some reason he wanted to stay in the backseat with me, so Scott went and took the passenger seat, but not before frowning suspiciously at the two of us.

“This better be worth it, Stiles,” Mr. Stilinski says, looking at us through the rear view mirror.

“Yeah, it will be,” he says before returning his attention to me and leaning closer, covering my hand that’s resting on my thigh with his own.

“You okay?” he whispers against my ear, letting me turn my hand around and intertwine our fingers. I nod slightly, looking down.

“I don’t want you to shut me out,” he whispers again, and I sigh. I’m gonna have to find a way to distract him, or eventually he’ll snap and get mad at me for keeping things from him. So I gently let go of his hand and let mine creep onto his thigh, watching his breath hitch and his eyebrows pull together into a small frown, as I lean closer to him as well.