Once we'd reached the police station, I was starting to get that feeling you get when you're little and you accidently break the neighbours window with a ball and realise that no matter how much you try and hide under your bed, they're going to find out.
My gut was churning like that, but ten times harder.
The black haired officer held the door open for me as he led me into the police station. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and say 'what a gentleman', because in my case, I was in deep shit.
And sarcasm wasn't going to save me.
"I'm going to put you in one of the interrogation rooms while we put your friend in one of the cells for a while."
"A cell?" I asked, a little panicky. "She hasn't done anything! I should be the one in the cell, not her."
"It's just so she can sleep off the alcohol for a while." He said in a reassuring tone, and I hated how much I liked his voice. "Besides, she's not exactly in a state to ask questions."
Just as he finished his sentence, another officer pulled Sophie through the doors, who was currently yelling "I would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for those meddling kids!".
"I see your point." I muttered after Sophie was pulled through another door way and disappeared from my sight.
Once we'd walked down the hallway a little, the police man grabbed one of the many doors lining the brightly lit hall and let me enter first again, like when we'd first got to the station. The room contained a white table and two wooden chairs on either side of it, and almost nothing else. In the top right corner, there was a camera mounted to the white ceiling, and one poster was attached to the wall the opposite of the door. In the huge mirror, I winced at my reflection.
The dark blonde strands of my ponytail were out of place because of Monica's hair yanking, and my face looked a little pale, my grey eyes tired.
What a great first impression in front of such an attractive guy.
"Hey, can I get these handcuffs off my wrist now?" I asked as he shut the door behind him. Nodding, he walked behind me and pulled out a key, his hands holding my arms as he undid the lock.
When he unclipped them, I felt his fingers graze the length of my wrists, before dropping to his sides. The whole time I had been watching in the mirror, and the whole situation had my heart beating faster.
"Take a seat." He offered, like I was there for a friendly catch up. I pulled out one of the chairs, but waited until he had done the same and took my coat off before sitting. When I looked up at him, his eyebrows were raised.
"What? Apparently you police officers have air conditioning. I was hot."
He didn't reply, instead he leaned forward and placed his forearms on the small table separating us, his eyes locking with mine. I couldn't help but notice the colour of them. I'd never seen a blue like that, it was like someone had gone and smashed little pieces of ice all over the iris, leaving specks coating the blue.
"So, where do you want to start?" He asked, his voice making me want to relax in my seat. Instead, I matched his position and clutched my hands together, like his were, but I couldn't help but notice how much bigger his were.
"What's your name?"
If he was thrown off by the question, he didn't show it. "Do you want to tell me about what happened earlier tonight?"
"You look like a Reece, or a Carter." I commented, and I almost smirked in amusement when his jaw twitched slightly. "Maybe a Caleb?"
"Flynn. My names Flynn, but it's Officer Morgan to you." He said, his eyes drilling into mine. "Now, start from the beginning."
"That was my next choice," I sighed, then got serious. "Sophie rang me at about one AM, asking if I could go pick her up from her boyfriends party. I agreed, and drove around to pick her up. When I got there, she was having an argument with Monica, the girl I apparently assaulted and I stepped in. Then..." I trailed off, remembering what had made me punch her. "She said some things."
"So you decided to punch her?" Flynn asked, and I tensed, shaking my head.
"No, it was a more of an impulse thing."
"What did she say?" He asked, leaning forward a little more. I glanced around the room, hesitating.
I didn't want to tell him. It was stupid, but to tell him about why I had punched Monica seemed like I was betraying my brother.
It was his burden, and I wasn't entitled to tell everyone who asked.
So instead, I leaned back, smiled, and replied with, "She called Sophie a slut. She deserved it."
Flynn narrowed his eyes, his jaw moving back and forth slowly. "I don't believe you." He said, and I tried to not look so annoyed as I looked back up.
"Why not?"
"Because you don't seem like the type of girl to punch someone because they called your friend a slut."
"How would you know what type of girl I am? You don't know me." I said, and Flynn leaned back himself, crossing his arms.
"I know right now that you're more nervous that you're letting on. I also know that when I was driving you were, you almost bit a hole through your lip, telling me you don't often experience dealing with the police, or for some reason, you're wary of them. And I know that you're not telling me the truth about why you really punched that girl tonight." Flynn said, and I felt my eyes narrowing with every word he said.
"Aren't you observant?" I muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the mirror again so I could avoid his eye contact.
"Do you have anyone you can call to come and get you and your friend?" Flynn asked, and I frowned, looking up at him.
"You're not holding me in? Pressing charges? Anything like that?"
"Well I can't do anything to you if the girl doesn't lay charges. Besides, you punched a girl in the eye because she was apparently being a bitch. If I had to arrest every girl who did that, this place would constantly be filled with teenagers." Flynn replied, standing up. "But if she does decide to, I'll have to see you again. I'm letting you off with a warning, this time."
"I'm not a teenager." I said, a little defensively, then blushed when his eyebrows rose the tiniest bit at my words. It was almost like I'd said them just to confirm that I wasn't a bratty little kid, to prove I was older.
"How old are you then?" He asked, seemingly genuinely curious.
"20. You don't look that much older than me either." I said, wishing my mouth would just stay closed. I grabbed my coat and followed him to the door.
"Maybe I'm not," Flynn murmured as he opened the door, waiting for me to go through. When I passed him, he turned slightly, and my shoulder brushed up against his chest. My breath hitched, and I quickly rushed out into the hallway, needing to get away from him, but wanting to stay a little closer.
It didn't make any sense to me. I couldn't have the hot's for him, he was a police officer. And he was older. And he was extremely good looking. And, I'd kind of just listed some of the points as to why I should have the hot's for him.
Blaming my stupid thoughts on the lack of sleep I'd had, I followed Flynn out to the front of the station, about to break the silence that had fallen over us when I heard the one voice I had been least excited to hear this whole time.
"Harlow? Care to tell me why I'm standing in the police station at two in the morning, picking you up?" My father asked, an impassive expression on his face, but his eyes were angry. Wincing, I turned to Flynn and tried a smile, thanking him quietly.
"Thanks for not locking me up for the night."
"Anytime, Harlow." He murmured back, and I liked the way he said my name far too much. Turning, I put on a brave face and meet my dad's waiting stare.
"Dad, it's a long story."
"Well I better drive slowly so you can tell me on the way home."
"Can we take Sophie home? She's in one of the cells." My dad sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How did you even know we were here?"
"Stan called me, said he saw Officer Morgan here marching you in in handcuffs." My dad replied gruffly, just as his best friend of twenty five years walked into the room. Stan sent me an almost guilty look, before clapping dad on the back. I had completely forgotten about Stan, the most respected police officer of this whole town, who was like an uncle to me.
"Thanks Stan," I muttered, and he ruffled my hair slightly as he passed me.
"Just trying to keep you safe, kiddo."
"I'll go get Sophie," Flynn said, disappearing through the door that led to the back rooms as dad and Stan fell into an easy conversation.
My dad had been one of the top lawyers in town and the cities surrounding it, for many, many years. Only a few years ago had he retired from doing the big cases that normally made the news, and let a few of the new young guns take the reins a little more.
The way he keep shooting me his lawyer glances now meant that I was in huge trouble, and I gulped down the anticipation of his lectures to come as Flynn re-entered the front room with Sophie, who looked slightly more sober, but with her it was hard to tell.
"Thank you, fine officer. I can take it from here. Although, I'd rather be manhandled by you then the one who pulled me into this station. He smelt like burgers, and I'm a vegetarian."
Flynn glanced up at me, and I shrugged, gently taking her arm and prying her away from Flynn. "Soph, dad's going to take us home now."
"Goodie." Sophie giggled, and I rolled my eyes at her.
"Thank you again, officers, for looking after these two. Still on for tomorrow night, Stan?" Dad called as he stood in between both me and Sophie, latched onto our forearms, and led us out into the night. He didn't even wait for Stan's answer, because we all knew he always came on Sunday's for dinner and football.
I glanced over my shoulder one last time to see Flynn standing next to the door, watching me from under his lashes. Blushing, I looked away quickly and helped dad get Sophie into the back seat before we got in ourselves and dad started the Jeep up.
As we pulled out of the police station, dad flicked off the radio and glanced at me. "Explain. Now."
I knew not to mess with that tone, so I cut straight to the chase. "Sophie called me to pick her up from Marcus' party. When I got there, she was having an argument with Monica."
"So how did that make you punch her?" Dad asked, a frown on his aging face.
"Dad, she said some things. Things about Sophie's mum and...and Marley."
The only indication that he had been affected by my words was the tightening of his fingers around the steering wheel. "What exactly did she say?"
"Not much. Just about how Sophie was a slut just like her mum, and that Marley-that no one had forgotten what had happened, that he was a loser."
Dad stayed silent for the rest of the way home. I wrung my hands nervously in my lap, glancing back at Sophie to see her sleeping peacefully in the back.
When he stopped the Jeep in the driveway, dad turned to me and his frown deepened. "So you punched this Monica in the eye?"
"Twice." I muttered, and dad blew out a breath. Expecting his next words to be bad, I steeled myself for them, only to be shocked by what he said.
"At least I taught you how to punch right."
"Dad!" I gasped, and he sent me a small grin, but his eyes were still troubled. They were always troubled, especially when it came to Marley.
"What? Sounds like she deserved it." He replied, then shook his head and got out of the Jeep. "Just don't do it again, okay?"
"I feel like I just got away with some sort of major crime." I muttered, and he chuckled as he opened the back seat door and gently lifted Sophie out of the back. "So I get no punishment?"
"No, your punishment is looking after Sophie in the morning. Trust me, that will be worse than any sort of thing I can think up for punishment."
Turns out, dad was bang on the mark.