10: "He's innocent!"

Peter Hale kept telling the police over and over that I didn't do a damn thing, but they ignored him and put me in handcuffs anyway. They sat me down in the hallway and made me watch as they carted Malia in a body bag out to the coroner's van. The other guys and Justin watched in stunned silence from the other end of the hallway. Justin's eyes were filled with tears at the loss of his only other friend in the house.

It was like a dream. A really bad dream. I kept thinking I was going to wake up any second in Derek's arms, back at his cabin, safe and sexually sound.

As if thinking about him brought him to life, I heard Derek's voice shouting, "Uncle Peter? Peter!"

He burst through the front door, imitating a frantic human teenager as he found Peter and said, "Sorry it took so long to get here. What's going on?"

Derek glanced at me. His expression didn't change for me, but I knew that he was acting indifferent to me so the cops wouldn't pick up on anything, so I followed his lead and gave him a hard stare.

Peter waved his hands in the air as he explained to Derek, "Stiles found Malia dead in his bedroom! I told the police and the detectives and even the coroner that you called me and told me you and Stiles were watching movies all night, but they want to arrest him anyway!"

"It's okay, Uncle Peter, we'll figure this out. Who is in charge?" Derek looked around.

An tall man with icy blue eyes and a hard expression came around the corner. Peter pointed him out as he stated, "Sheriff Parrish."

Peter leaned into Derek and whispered, "He's a real hardass. It'll take some convincing to get Stiles outta this."

Derek nodded shortly. Sheriff Parrish came to a stop beside me and acted like he was checking something on his tablet. I knew from experience that he was actually focusing all his attention on me, making it a point to look distracted while attempting to determine how anxious or calm I was a mere half-hour after the trauma.

I just continued to act honestly, knowing that any changes in behavior would cue him in to the fact that I knew his game. Derek approached Sheriff Parrish and extended a hand to him as he said, "Excuse me, Sir, but I'd like to speak with you a moment."

Sheriff Parrish shook Derek's hand but didn't look him in the eye as he replied passively, "Yes, you're Peter Hale's nephew. He says you and Stiles were watching movies all night long."

He paraphrased it like the story meant very little to him.

Derek didn't skip a beat, but explained, "Yes, Sir. Stiles and I were watching movies all night at my place and I just brought him back a little over 20 minutes, ago."

Sheriff Parrish finally looked up at Derek, asking him pointedly, "Your uncle said that you live a while out of town. Don't you have a guest room or a couch at your place where Stiles could've stayed?"

It was obvious Sheriff Parrish was attempting to poke holes in a story he didn't believe to be true. Derek half-smiled and replied with a little less respect, "Stiles didn't want to stay at my place because I have a very anal retentive roommate."

Sheriff Parrish frowned at Derek's word usage, then he cleared his throat and replied, "I'm sure your roommate would be willing to make a statement to the fact that Stiles was at your place all night?"

My eyes widened and I looked at Derek. I figured if Scott flew off the handle over a human pubic hair in the bathroom, he would unleash a world of fury if he had to come down to a human infested police station and write out a statement.

Derek didn't skip a beat, but replied easily, "He could do that, but I don't think there's any need."

Sheriff Parrish lifted a curious brow. Derek clarified, "I have security cameras outside of my cabin. They show Stiles and I coming and going, and they're date and time stamped."

For the first time since I had met him, Sheriff Parrish actually looked surprised. Derek went on, "I also have receipt of a pizza which I ordered for us to eat while watching movies. I also waved to a couple of friends while taking Stiles home. I think they'll all testify that they saw him riding with me."

Sheriff Parrish swallowed hard. He seemed to be deciding whether to ask for further statements or not. Peter came up beside Derek just as the coroner walked back in and everyone went silent. He shook his head at Sheriff Parrish and said, "I don't see any defensive wounds on the girl. I'll have to do an autopsy to be sure, but this looks like a natural death."

"Natural?" Sheriff Parrish blurted almost angrily.

The coroner nodded his round head and replied with a shrug, "The blood came from her nose, mouth and ears. It was probably from an aneurysm."

"An aneurysm? She was so young!" Peter argued.

The coroner nodded again and explained, "Aneurysms can develop at any age, and for many reasons. They can go for years without bursting, but something as simple as a hard sneeze can pop one, and all the person might feel is a nasty headache and some drowsiness. The symptoms come on fast. The girl probably went to Stiles' room because it was closest to where she was and she died very shortly, thereafter."

Peter turned to Sheriff Parrish and asked, "Would you please take the handcuffs off of Stiles, now?"

The coroner added solemnly, "He's right, Jordan. Do you really want to put an 18-year-old in prison for the rest of his life for a crime we all know he didn't commit simply because he has a history with the law?"

Sheriff Parrish sniffed with agitation, but he did move to take my cuffs off. He was slow about it and I had to bite my tongue not to chew him out. As soon as I was free, I got up and backed away from everyone. The police were moving past me to leave as Peter tried to put his hand on my shoulder, but I jerked away from him and folded my arms in silent defiance.

Peter turned his attention to the police and made sure everyone left. Sheriff Parrish was the last out the door, giving me a warning look before he took leave himself. I just glared at him and stood my ground.

When the outsiders were completely gone, Peter came back and told the guys, "You can all go back to your rooms, now. Since everyone's a little shaken up, I'll let you sleep in."

All of the guys but Justin glared at me before they turned to leave. Riley, Drew, Adam, Nick and Husky, all of them with prior records and hands as dirty as mine, yet they were all looking at me like I was the bad apple of the bunch.

Justin just stood there, staring at the floor with tears in his eyes. He seemed to be lost to time and space, like a ghost of the person he once was. Peter slowly made his way over to Justin. Most people instinctively asked a person in shock if they were alright or some other ridiculous question, but Peter was a little more seasoned than that. He said to Justin with a sense of calm, "You want a drink, son? I've got a grape soda in the fridge with your name on it."

There was no response from Justin, so Peter came a little closer to him and said with the same sense of calm, "I think I might have orange soda in there, too. I like orange soda but grape tastes the best."

Peter deliberately walked past Justin on his way to the kitchen. Justin followed without even realizing what he was doing, and the two of them disappeared into the next room, leaving me alone with Derek.

I felt a sudden wave of shame and anxiousness and I couldn't turn around to look at Derek. I half-expected him to tell me none of this would've happened if I had stayed with him, or I should've been watching over Malia more carefully, or some other piece of shit I-told-you-so line. When he finally did speak, all he said was, "You wanna go for a ride?"

My voice was so choked up with emotion, I had to struggle just to tell him, "No, thanks."

I felt like walking but I had lost the will to speak so I just started moving and Derek followed a few feet behind me. The sun was starting to come up as we made our way outside. I walked around the yard and into the big thicket of weeds and tall grass in the clearing behind the house, still staying close by in case Sheriff Parrish was still parked somewhere to make sure I didn't take off.

The thicket was more difficult to maneuver through than I thought. The grass was almost to my hips and the weeds were much taller than I was. I stopped somewhere in the middle of it and looked back at Derek. Behind him was a thick shade of grass and weeds, as if we hadn't walked through it at all. I just lay down where I was, not concerned about the bugs or snakes or spiders or whatever the fuck else could potentially crawl up my shorts and bite my ass. At that point, I didn't care.

Derek sat down where he was a few feet away and watched me. I silently stared back at him for a while, then I looked up at the sky and watched the clouds, pink from the sunrise, as they floated by in various shapes and forms.

I don't know if I cried or not. I thought my cheeks might be wet at some point, but if tears were falling, I wasn't feeling them. After a long while, I felt Derek rest his head on my stomach, but I didn't look down to see for sure. I could feel his eyes on me, observing me, studying me, wondering what I was thinking and wondering when I would come back.

I wanted to tell him that I didn't think Malia's death was from natural causes. I wanted to tell him that there was so much blood. I wanted to tell him that, when I looked into Malia's eyes, they were forever frozen in fear.

But I couldn't say anything. It was like my voice box didn't work anymore, and when I thought of speaking, the thought didn't connect with my mouth.

I was very literally speechless, and I had no idea how long it was going to last.