Hi everyone! I decided to reupload this story to add and edit it while I'm on writer's block for Build God, Then We'll Talk. This was a short story assignment for a public speaking class I had in high school, and I thought I'd rewrite it to fit characters since I want a Mystery story under my belt. I hope you like it!
1.
The lights blur as Beck Oliver sits in the back of the Officer Vega's squad car. His lip is busted and his hands are in tight cuffs. A bruise is starting to form on his left eye and he has a large gash on his forehead. His hair is longer now—still black as night—but it's come from his messy ponytail and strands point every which way out of his head. His deep brown eyes are full of pain, sadness, and tears while his chiseled jaw is jutted into a scowl.
His long-sleeved, silk, light, blue button-up shirt is untucked with a few buttons missing and his black skinny jeans are torn in various places. He's bleeding from his lower left side, a low blow from a random stranger he fought.
He'll be taken to the hospital before being put into holding. Tomorrow he will meet the detective assigned to his case, the one who will try to prove his innocence.
Street lights pass by continuously, screaming into his eyes and causing him to shy away from the window. The flashing lights remind him of Club Protocol, the place where Caterina Oliver was murdered.
The sight of his dead wife lingers in his brain; the sounds of the screams still fill his ears. He remembers feeling the pain of seeing Cat bleeding out in the back alley, the fading warmth of her body as she bled out against him, the terror in his voice as he dialed 911, the terrified screams of his sister and other club goers that came out to catch the scene. He's…he's a little tipsy, but he still remembers what happened less than half an hour ago. Everything is distance at the moment, yet it is so close. The world he knew is dying, like a flame in the rain.
Nothing will ever be the same.
"I'm ashamed of you, Beck," Officer Vega announces solemnly. This is the first time they've seen each other in ten years. Now, Officer Vega is a balding man with gray hair and tired brown eyes. His hands are full of arthritis and scars from his accumulated years on the force. His bones are now weak from battle, unable to fight any longer. Tonight is his last on the job, and Beck's case is his last call; this is the easiest last call anyone will ever have, but it is also the hardest.
"I didn't do anything," Beck mutters under his breath, glaring at the cuffs on his wrists. "You know I would never hurt Cat… I love my wife…"
He says the last sentence to himself, a sign of reassurance that he needs. He needs to believe it; if he believes he loves his wife, he must mean it right?
Officer Vega sighs tiredly. "That's what they all say," he accuses sadly. He eyes Beck through the rear view mirror and frowns sorrowfully. Beck opens his mouth to say something else, but decides to close it and not say anything.
Officer Vega wouldn't believe him anyway.