I Would Kill For You

21. Requiem For Blue Dreams

I knew that she was trying to compensate for her partner's condescending attitude, but nothing could make me feel better now. I was this close to breaking down. I shook my head, avoiding their eyes, and sat back down on the chair. I tried to choke back the tears but I couldn't; they were pouring in an endless torrent of woe, emptiness and resentment.

"Perhaps tea?" she suggested.

"I don't want your bloody tea." I snapped, glowering at her. "I want you to stop treating me as if I'm a killer. I want to go home." I sniffed, taking the napkin that she handed to me. "Thank you."

"We'll see what we can do about that." detective Robbins uttered, but the look she attracted upon her from Carter was anything but approving.

As soon as they left, I began to sob unceasingly. All of my walls collapsed one by one until I was stripped to the bone by raw emotions. Teardrops landed on the table with an opaque sound. I wished this day could end. I wished Damian were here. I wished none of this had happened.

***

Damian's POV

History had the tendency of repeating itself. And there I was, four months later, in the same police station, interrogated by the same detectives. Accused, once again, of homicide. But I was used to people expecting the worst from me. I was used to people calling me a killer. It didn't bother me anymore. When your own father suspected you of murder, you got some sort of immunity to it.

What do you feel about Avery Halloway's death? Resignation, I had answered. Condolences to her family. Are you glad that she's dead? No, of course not. But I'm not too repentant either.

Perhaps I shouldn't have said that out loud.

My father, as usual, was very disappointed in me. I could sense his rebuking, piercing eyes on me every step that I took, but I ignored him. He was striving to bite back his critical remarks because of the presence of Rosabel's parents. They, on the other hand, were holding each other in a soft embrace, Mrs Ingold looking extremely troubled and doleful. Ms Ingold was deep in thought and had a plaintive expression. I felt a tinge of melancholy and jealousy at the sight of them. The good kind of jealousy, of course. 

I wished my mother were here, by my dad's side, by my side. He had changed greatly ever since she left. But so did I.

I looked at the time. It was almost twelve AM, and Rosabel had been in the interrogation for more than thirty minutes. I needed to see her. The way she clung to me back in her house kept rewinding in my head; it wasn't Avery's death that broke me, it was the look on Rosabel's face when she had heard about it. 

I didn't say anything to my dad and took off, strolling to the interrogation room. There were a lot of turns in the police station, but I had a good sense of spatial orientation, so I was sure I was heading the right way. Unfortunately, one of the inspectors noticed me and came up to me, blocking my path.

"Can I help you?" he asked me pontifically.

"No." I replied, walking past him. I caught his nonplussed frown, but he didn't follow or attempt to stop me. Even if he did, he wouldn't have succeeded.

"You can't go in there, young man!" he exclaimed, drawing ten other curious looks on me. 

But I didn't stop.