Hey guys this is Tori!!
This is a new story that I've been working on :-) I hope everyone likes it!
The picture on the side is a picture of a Dodge Challenger, the car that Kara drives.
Kara
From the moment the cop entered the room, he was all business. He threw my file onto the table in that dramatic way most detectives have and glared at me. I believe he was trying to intimidate me. It was sad really; tougher men than he had tried to make me shiver in my boots with fear. Compared to some I had faced, this detective was like a child trying to face down a lion.
"I want the truth, from the beginning, and then maybe we will offer you a deal. So start talking."
My favorite words.
I looked up at the cop, wondering if acting the part of a scared little girl would work here. That had saved me in Phoenix. The detective who pulled me in there was an elderly gentleman who had swallowed my story of a misguided, lonely teenager and let me go. Sucker. Misguided was the last thing I could be called.
The detective stared me down with his beady little eyes. An act wouldn't work on this one...Maybe the truth would. A butchered, doctored form of the truth that portrayed it how I wanted him to see it...but the truth nonetheless.
"My whole world changed when I was fifteen. That was the year I lost my mother and decided I didn't need anyone to save me anymore. Losing a parent is hard. Losing one the way I did....Well, there is no mystery to why I am the way I am when you hear my whole story. Are you curious, Detective Pax?" I leaned back, tilting the metal chair up on its back legs as I stared down the man across from me.
Detective Pax frowned at me, his exaggerated mustache almost masking the gesture. "Are you looking for pity, Miss Durant? I assure you, you won't find any of that with me. A troubled childhood is no reason for your crimes."
"Crimes? Only one crime, sir, and it really shouldn't even count as a crime."
His face reddened in irritation. "You think street racing isn't a crime, girl? How many people could have been hurt because of you today? Dozens. All so you can have a cheap little thrill as you fly by the cops going a hundred and fifty in a souped up little Camaro."
I blinked at him. Wow. I hated when I got judgmental dick heads as interrogators. "First of all, sir, I never race for 'cheap thrills," I quoted in a disdainful tone. "I race to put food on the table for my family because my selfish boss pays me as little as possible while profiting off my hard work and they would starve otherwise." Which was only half true. I did race so we had food; but I didn't have another job besides racing. We moved too much for that. "Second, I drive a Challenger, not a Camaro, as any fool could see by looking at it."
Detective Pax just glared harder at me. I bit back a grin; if looks could kill, I would be dead on the floor. After a moment, I sighed, bored of the show by now. I knew the whole game. Being hauled to the big house wasn't a rarity in my life anymore, as the thick file on the table could attest to.
"Mr. Pax, charge me, let me pay my fine and my impound bill, and I'll be on my way, never to return." I had a serious problem staying in one place. I needed the road, the change. It ruined quite a few relationships for me over the years, but I didn't really care. The one I was meant to be with would want to wander with me.
"Maybe we should process you, put you in the hold," he growled. "Teach you some humility."
"If you could, I'm sure you would. As it is, you can't. So tell me what my bail is, and give me my phone call." My head was starting to hurt from the metallic scent in the interrogation room.
