I wasn't in my best condition, but I had to at least appear presentable. The fact that the police had me on their radar as a possible accomplice of Cain and Blaze was causing me immense stress.
As the two officers led me outside, the older one paused to speak with Kristopher. I shifted my focus back to the phone in my hand, which was buzzing again. It was a message from Tiffany, one of the few colleagues I had spoken to at work besides Inferno Knight. I had asked her to grab my bag and other belongings for me. After everything that had happened, I knew it would take some time for it all to sink in and I didn't want to have to go back for my bag later.
Detective Carter, who had introduced himself earlier, was still trying to engage me in conversation, but my mind was elsewhere. It kept replaying the subtle glance between him and Kristopher, making me question if I was overanalyzing. The sudden quietness brought me back to reality, and I turned my attention to the blond man standing in front of me. My eyes then shifted to Cain's car parked nearby, a seemingly random spot for it to be.
I refocused on Detective Carter, who was observing my actions with caution. The door of the coffee shop swung open once more and the veteran officer stepped out, seemingly unaware of Cain's presence. Detective Carter gave me a subtle signal to indicate that he wasn't going to inform the older cop about Cain's presence. Before I could ask for an explanation, Tiffany suddenly appeared from the car parked next to us.
"There you are! I was getting anxious", she said, quickly making her way towards me and giving me my bag. "What's going on? Why does the police need to talk to you?", she persisted with her questions.
With a smile, I thanked Tiffany and took the bag from her hand.
"I'm not entirely sure, but hopefully I'll find out soon," I replied.
I could hear her voice asking me more questions, but I was no longer paying attention. My focus shifted to Cain, who was about to enter the coffee shop's back entrance and looked back at us. The way he gazed at Tifanny grabbed my attention, igniting a strong feeling of jealousy within me. I couldn't understand why he would look at her with such intensity. To me, she was an unremarkable woman with nothing special about her. Her wardrobe consisted only of neutral colors, and she wore the same makeup every day, making you think that she did not remove it the night before. Her sandy blonde hair was always styled in curls, a look I had seen her wear since I started working here.
But what did she possess that I lacked? What was it about her that captivated Cain so intensely, leaving me unnoticed and ignored?
Not having answers to any of these questions drove me insane. It was becoming increasingly apparent that my feelings for him ran much deeper than I had initially realized. I couldn't explain why I felt so envious when he gazed at her. We had no real reason to pretend to be a couple if he actually liked Tiffany.
Conflicting emotions churned within me as I watched Cain stroll into the coffee shop.
"Scarlett, are you even paying attention?" Tiffany's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
My mind snaps back to the present as I turn my attention towards her.
"Oh, sorry about that. My mind was elsewhere. What were you saying again?"
"I offered to speak with Inferno Knight on your behalf," she reminded me. "He had already left when you called."
I expressed my gratitude for her assistance and assured her that I would call him back at a later time. It was not the right moment for her to speak with him, and I couldn't reach out to him since I didn't have all the details yet
I entered the police car calmly, but my mind was racing with questions about why I was being involved in this situation. As we made our way to the station, I felt my phone buzzing multiple times - it was Cain, trying to reach me. I ignored his calls, but he sent me a few messages, asking for an explanation. Annoyed, I rolled my eyes and put my phone away in my bag. I had no interest in talking to him. If he truly cared about me, he wouldn't have wasted time staring like that at Tiffany.
----- ♡ -----
I was anxiously waiting to be questioned so I could finally leave the station. This week had been a disaster, and it seemed things were only getting worse. If my paycheck hadn't already arrived, I would have considered today an unlucky day. Detective Carter had tried to engage in conversation with me, but my mind was consumed by thoughts of Cain. Any response I gave him would have been sharp and unkind, and I didn't want to dig myself into a deeper hole. I carefully examined his appearance once again, taking note of all his features. At first glance, he appeared to be a sensitive person, but given his profession, I could have been wrong about that assumption.
The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder as they neared the room where Detective Carter and I were waiting. The person seemed to be walking at a leisurely pace, giving Detective Carter enough time to lean in close and warn me not to reveal everything about last night's events. I was taken aback by his words, but before I could ask for clarification, the older policeman entered and took a seat across from me. Now that I was calmer, I noticed that he wasn't as old as I initially thought - probably in his late 40s or early 50s. However, it was clear that the stress and long hours of police work had taken a toll on him.
"Miss Woods, I need to ask you a few questions about a fight that took place in the parking lot of the Rebel Pub last night", he said, reminding me of what I'd seen on TV a little while ago.
"I'll help in any way I can, but I wasn't involved in any fights", I said, feeling my palms sweating and not because of my superpowers.
"I understand", said the older policeman. "Several people complained of a fight there and your car was seen leaving the parking lot around the time the altercation occurred. Can you tell me where you were last night?"
"Absolutely," I responded, but it felt ridiculous that I was the one being singled out just because my car had been spotted at the scene. I wanted to drink the water that Detective Carter had poured for me, but after witnessing how he covered for Cain and hearing what he had shared with me earlier, I was hesitant to trust him. Despite knowing that I was innocent, I couldn't shake off the nerves and unease. This was a completely new experience for me, and I had no clue how to navigate through it efficiently.
After a moment of composure, I continued my discussion with the lead detective.
"Last night I went out for a drink with a friend. We had to split up around 10 p.m", I replied, then added "I got in my car and went home. On the way home I stopped at a 24/7 store and bought something to eat".
"Can this friend of yours vouch for what you said", he asked again, not before writing down what I had just said.
After a brief pause, I pondered whether or not it would be wise to reveal the truth about Cain to him. Despite the slim chance of me actually ending up in jail, my mind was already concocting scenarios of being locked up.
"Yes", I finally said. "I had a few drinks with Cain Maverick, the owner of the coffee shop where you found me. I don't remember his number, but I can look it up on my phone", I added, noticing Detective Carter leaning against the wall behind the older cop, looking at me with a sharp glance.
Once again, he seemed to be cautioning me against sharing any additional details about Cain. Little did he know, I only knew his name and phone number. It was hard to believe that just a few days ago, I thought of him simply as the owner of a coffee shop. Now, I found myself alluding to past events involving him.
The veteran officer scribbled a few more notes before glancing back up at me.
"As you left, did you notice anything else that might be relevant to this investigation?"
"No, not really. I mean there were a lot of people at the bar. It's hard to tell if they were in the fight or not", I quickly replied, losing my patience. "If you don't mind, I have a question - Why is this fight so important? People have fought before on the streets and no one has started an investigation into it".
The officer gazed down at the sheet of paper on his desk, letting out a deep sigh. I could sense that he was debating whether or not to disclose the information to me.
"I'm sorry, but since this is an ongoing investigation, I can't tell you any details", he told me as he got up from his chair. "I appreciate your cooperation. If we need further assistance, we will contact you", he added before leaving the room.
His answer only added to my confusion. I had more questions than ever before. At least I could go back home, where my sister was most likely still out. Without giving Detective Carter a chance to say anything else, I grabbed my bag and hurriedly left the station.
Despite the less-than-ideal weather, I decided to take a walk to the agency where I worked to retrieve my car. It wasn't safe to leave it there, and a little physical activity would do me some good. I resisted the urge to check my phone for any messages from Cain and instead took out my pack of black Dunhill cigarettes. Using my powers, I lit one up. Using my fire powers was something I only did occasionally, whether it was lighting candles around my house or indulging in a cigarette. My mother never approved of my powers, but that didn't stop me. She always resented that I inherited this trait from my father, although at that age, I didn't fully understand what was happening between them.
I had been alone at home for the entire day; my father was at work and my mother assured me she would be back soon. Before she left, she made sure to lock all the doors except for the ones in the bathroom and bedroom.
I entertained myself for a while by playing with the stuffed animals she had left on my bed, but the novelty soon wore off. I longed to watch some cartoons, but the TV was switched off and the remote was nowhere in sight. My mom always forbade me from going near the TV, and the thought of her suddenly showing up made me keep my distance. I didn't want to do anything that would make her angry and lead to another beating. She would often take out her rage on me after my dad yelled at her, so I didn't want to risk any reckless behavior again.
On the nightstand, there was a bottle of water and a few small portions of chicken left, probably from our dinner last night. I picked up a piece and began to eat it; it wasn't terrible, although I would have preferred it warm with mashed potatoes. Mashed potatoes were my favorite dish, but unfortunately, my mother never made them when I requested it.
Only my dad cooked that meal for me.
Munching on my food, I prayed that one of them would come back soon. Dad always brought me something when he returned home, much to Mom's dismay. She scolded him for wasting money on me, saying I wasn't worth it. I didn't understand what she meant, but the way she spoke about me was never pleasant. Whenever they argued, I would cover my ears and hide under my bed, terrified of the harsh tone in her voice.
After I finished eating, I made sure to leave no crumbs behind. I went to the bathroom and washed my hands, remembering how much Mom disliked messes or sticky fingers touching anything. Returning to my bedroom, I sat on the panda-shaped rug that Dad had given me for Christmas last year. Christmas was always a special time for me, even if Mom didn't share the same enthusiasm.
I was eager to improve my reading abilities as soon as I could, hoping it would make me less bored. My dad had bought me several books a month before I started school, but I wasn't an expert yet. Still, I loved reading and wished I could do it as effortlessly as he did. During our breaks from reading or learning other important things for the future, my dad would create beautiful flowers made out of flames or shape different animals. Somehow, I knew the technique behind his "magic tricks", and he promised that I would be able to do them too someday. Many of the kids at my old kindergarten had already developed similar superpowers.
I longed to have the same abilities as my dad, so I concentrated with all my might, just like he did. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do anything with the same ease as him. Feeling defeated, I attempted a few more times before giving up. Just as I was about to walk away, I decided to give it one last shot - and to my amazement, little flames started flickering in my hand. My heart filled with joy and anticipation at the thought of showing my dad that I had finally achieved what he could do effortlessly.
I was so absorbed in my hands that I didn't notice Dad standing in the bedroom doorway, his face twisted in anger. The sight of him caught me by surprise.
Excitedly, I called out to my father, "Look, Daddy! I can do it too!" However, he seemed preoccupied and not his usual self.
He approached me and leaned against my side, gazing at the flickering flames in my hand. His familiar gesture of ruffling my hair before he left for work brought a smile to my face.
"Where's your mother"?", he asked.
I shrugged, at a loss for words. My mom had left without telling me where she was going, only promising to return soon, which she clearly hadn't done.
He let out a sigh and started to play with me, revealing more tricks that displayed his extraordinary abilities. I lost track of time, but then heard the front door open and saw Mom disappear into the kitchen. I followed her, calling out for her attention before stopping at her side and demonstrating my newest skill.
I concentrated, recalling my father's instructions, and used the fire to form a small heart. My mother turned to face me but her expression remained neutral. She held a cup of water, most likely just taken a sip from it. Her gaze met mine as she poured the entire contents of the mug over my hands.
I gazed at her, speechless. My emotions were in turmoil, and I was on the verge of tears. But I knew she despised crying, so I held it back. She brushed past me as if I wasn't even there, and then my dad appeared. I could tell by his expression that he had witnessed the whole scene. He told me to go to my room, and I knew this dinner would not be a pleasant one.
A sharp sting on my leg jolted me awake, caused by the ash from my cigarette that had fallen and burned through my tights. With a heavy sigh, I took note of the hole now present in my previously pristine outfit. Clearly, I had been sitting on this bench for quite some time, judging by the pile of discarded cigarette butts at my feet. And to top it off, today was the worst day to wear my beloved Valentino boots - they were causing excruciating pain in my already sore feet. It was an unseasonably warm February day, and I had dressed accordingly, forgetting that just because I usually drive everywhere doesn't mean I won't have to walk at some point.
I wrapped my coat tightly around myself, wishing I had brought a scarf. Feeling the pack of cigarettes in my pocket, I took it out and noticed that there was only one left. As I debated whether to smoke it or not, Cain's car pulled up in front of me. My first instinct was to get up from the bench and move to the other side, but before I could do so, he had already exited the car and was walking towards me. I tried to mentally prepare myself for this encounter, knowing that it was rude to ignore him and that I should at least listen to what he has to say. However, when he stopped in front of me, his expression struck fear into my heart.
The Cain I knew had disappeared, replaced by a man who exuded danger and could have easily ended my life with a flick of his hand. My body shuddered as an icy chill ran through me. He didn't say a word, but he gestured for me to give him my hand. I felt compelled to obey, knowing that any defiance on my part could result in severe consequences.