Abigail
"What do you mean he was moved?"
The officer behind the desk didn’t bother meeting my glacial countenance from behind his computer screen.
His fingers tapped on the keyboard, unbothered. All that remained was a gum snapping in his teeth and he would be a perfect hotel receptionist.
With the way he was acting, you would think I and Annette came to beg for some loan or some shit like that.
Yesterday, Gavin had attacked me and the officers had agreed that I could give a proper statement, today.
So what the hell was this?
"Did you not hear us?" Annette snapped,
earning a few raised brows from others in the bullpen except for the jackass cop attending to us.
"He was transferred to another jurisdiction," he gritted out,his fingers slamming harder against the keys. I just knew he was typing a bunch of rubbish on the screen with how fast he was typing. "That’s all I’m authorized to tell you."
"That’s all you’re authorized to tell us?" I pressed my hands flat on the counter, wincing from the sight pain around my throat.
"He attacked me, twice. There are photographs of the bruising on my throat that are currently sitting in a file somewhere in this building."
"He hasn’t been placed on trial, neither has he appeared in court. So why exactly has he been transferred to another jurisdiction before any of that happened?"
The officer’s fingers paused on the keys. He finally lifted his gaze, those beady, dark eyes, the colour of dishwater settling on mine.
Finally, Hallelujah.
"Ma’am, listen—"he trailed off, his words irritating me to the core.
"Don’t ma’am me." I snapped, slamming a palm on the desk.
"You cannot tell me there’s no report on him. I filed a report. I gave my statement already and you can fucking see his handprints on my neck right now, can’t you?"
Except you’re frigging related to Blind Bartimeus.
"If you’re not going to be calm and listen, then sorry I cannot help you,"
"You’ve hardly helped us," Annette hissed next to me.
I pinched the bridge of my nose,trying to breathe. I could do this. I could fucking do this. They were just trying to mess with my head, that was all.
"Look, officer, I answered every question your colleagues asked me. I reported him twice. You can’t tell me a man charged for assault has has been suddenly moved to somewhere else without even appearing in court? What if he attacks me again?"
"He won’t," The officer grunted then slapped a hand over his mouth.
How did he know that?
"And how do you know, he won’t? What judge signed off on an interstate transfer for someone awaiting trial on assault and suspected homicide charges? Give me a name, or anything at all."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Stranger Behind My Orgasm