I stood between Proctor and Harris, rolling my eyes. So apparently Harris had an issue with yet another police officer. How surprising.

"Mahoney?!" Harris yelped again, his voice oddly strained.

"Really, Sir; are you telling me you had no idea?" Proctor replied, practically sweating bullets now.

Harris's next words came out like the growl of a junkyard dog.

"I had no idea of what, Proctor?"

"Well, Sir, about a month ago the mayor decided to get some… uh, fresh blood into the office and he elected—"

"And just what am I supposed to be now?" Harris demanded, his face getting redder by the second. "Chopped liver?"

"I don't know, Sir."

Now Harris was pacing back and forth and I could just imagine how high his blood pressure was getting.

"How could the mayor just… betray me like this?! Why the hell didn't I have a say?!"

"I don't know, Sir."

Harris glared at Proctor, who noticeably cowered.

"That's a rhetorical question, you idiot!"

I'd never seen a person's face so red. I'd almost wished I'd paid more attention in health class when they were teaching CPR, because it looked like Captain Harris was going to need it soon.

Lieutenant Proctor gestured to me, in spite of the glare of death he was receiving from Harris.

"Miss Carnegie, you'll have to come with me to the station. You have to give a statement."

"Why won't you let me stay at the party?" I whined. "You let everyone else go back to what they were doing."

"Well, not Mr. Graham here," Proctor said with a goofy smile, pointing with his thumb at the backseat of his police car. "Believe me, once they see what I did over there, there won't be much of a party left." He snickered like a total moron.

I blinked.

"What did you do?"

"I told Proctor to empty their kegs," Harris stated matter-of-factly, clasping his hands behind his back and jutting his chin out. I frowned deeply, shaking my head. Could these two be any less likeable? "Let's see how much fun they can have while dead sober," Harris sneered.

"Until they realize what you did," I muttered.

Almost immediately, Harris's smug grin turned into the shifty eyed frown of a paranoid wreck. He stared off worriedly into the distance towards his Corvette.

"Speaking of which, we should get going before they, uh, come back this way."

"Miss Carnegie," Proctor said, opening his squad car passenger side door, "after you."

Ace snarled from the back seat.

"You boring-ass faux-rich bitch!" he shrieked. "You just wait 'til I make bail!"

"Watch your mouth, or that'll be another count against you," Harris replied, narrowing his eyes at Ace.

I crossed my arms defiantly. I had two options here: Ace and the police car or another ride in the Corvette.

"I don't want to be in the car with him," I commented.

"She can come with me," Harris offered. If I had to choose between a rock and a hard place, this was certainly the better choice.

"I'm sorry, Sir; I can't let you do that," Proctor replied, halting me from moving. "She has to come with me. How about you drive the squad car and I drive your—"

"Hell no," Harris replied. "You even so much as try to touch my car, you'll be picking up your teeth with two broken arms."

"It's just a 15 minute drive," I said incredulously. "Why does it matter?"

"He could tell you what to say," Proctor replied. "He could influence your testimony."

Harris's eyes grew larger and angrier until I saw veins popping out of his neck. His shoved his finger into the center of Proctor's chest, pushing him backwards. Heart attack in five… four—

"What the hell are you implying, Proctor?!" he roared. "You… you ungrateful little shit! I'm the one who got you to where you are today, and don't you forget that! You'd be working goddamn traffic lights for the rest of your miserable life if I hadn't come along!" With that he used his hand to shove Proctor backwards into his squad car. I could hear Ace cheering inside the car.

Screw this shit. I began walking towards the party as fast as my clogs could carry me. It was ridiculous listening to grown men fight like two little bratty babies. With their pathetic levels of police work, it'd probably take them two hours to figure out where I'd gone.

"Excuse me, but you have to come back!" Proctor yelled after I was about half a football field away. I looked back very briefly to see him standing alone. Where had Harris gone?

"Leave me the hell alone!" I yelled back, not even slowing my pace. "Waiting for you two is a waste of my time!"

"Miss Carnegie, you have to come back to make a statement!"

"Here's my statement," I growled, throwing my finger up at him, "Screw you! Thanks to you, you ruined my whole day!"

I turned back around to see a car headed straight towards me, its headlights piercing through the trees. The day was fading fast and I couldn't make out the color of the car, but its style was obvious as all hell: it was Harris's Corvette. Immediately I worried that the incompetent Proctor had allowed Ace to escape and that he was now proceeding to mow me down where I stood.

Before I could even react, the Corvette stopped abruptly in front of me and let out an impatient honk. The window rolled down and a hairy arm draped itself over the side.

"Get the hell in, Carnegie!" a gruff voice said. I attempted to peer through the windshield to see that it was Harris in the vehicle.

Rolling my eyes, I made my way to the passenger door and got inside. Harris was significantly less red than he had been only minutes earlier.

"Let's just get this shit over with," he muttered, clearly irritated. "I got a bone to pick with Mahoney and it ain't gonna be pretty."

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed silent. Two minutes passed as we sped past the bonfire, still burning although at least half the students were gone. I kept my head down to avoid being seen. I'd accepted my fate that I'd never be trusted enough to make friends at this academy. I just wanted to go back to my apartment and sleep, but Harris was determined to make it to the police station before Proctor. Speed limit signs were completely ignored as he flew past them. Suddenly it occurred to me that our stories of what happened needed to be clarified. Clearly the truth and Harris's story were two separate things.

"So," I mumbled, "what should I say?"

"About what?" he remarked.

"The statement," I continued. "Obviously our stories need to match."

"What makes you think they won't?" he said, glancing over at me accusingly. "Don't you remember what happened, Carnegie?"

"Please, refresh my memory," I said, allowing a little smile to cross my mouth before I noticed that he saw it.

"Right—well, there you were, being held hostage by Ace Graham," he began, clearing his throat before continuing. "I had been tracking you after finding your shoe. I had my pistol on him. He had his gun to your head."

"Okay, keep going," I said.

"He demanded that I give him my car keys or he'd shoot you," Harris said, beginning to slow down his story. Clearly he was restructuring the events in his head.

"I told him I don't negotiate with criminals," Harris then said. The first lie.

"Right," I commented. He made a humph sound but didn't let my interruption stop the momentum of his lies.

"To distract him, I faked being tripped and while he was distracted by my clever ruse, I shot him in the hand and he dropped his weapon. You got free and grabbed his gun. I then told you to get the cuffs and radio Proctor, which you did. End of story."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"Now what the hell is that supposed to mean, Carnegie?" he remarked, apparently having seen my immediate reaction to his fable.

"That is not what happened, and you know it," I said, continuing to shake my head. "I shot him in the hand while pretending not to know what to do with his gun. You weren't the one to shoot him."

"How dare you change the story to boost yourself!" he suddenly bellowed. "I saved your useless, car-stealing life, you little punk! You're welcome, by the way!"

I noticeably cringed, surprised at Harris's ability to conveniently forget the truth.

"You did rescue me, but just not that way!" I replied, the volume of my voice increased though nowhere near Harris's. "You came looking for me. Had it not been for you, I probably would have been shot when Ace realized the Corvette wasn't mine. You showed a lot of bravery, holding a gun on a guy who's such an expert."

"Expert my ass," Harris remarked with a sneer. I continued speaking.

"You were even willing to give him your entire key ring so that I'd be let go. You don't have to invent the truth or embellish it! You did save me!" To drive home the message, I did something crazy: I put my hand on his and patted it.

Harris jerked his hand away so quickly that he swerved the car hard to the left, all while he was driving down a public street!

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Carnegie?" Harris almost yelped, scanning the road around him after correcting his hard swerve to see a police car sitting on a side street starting its engine and turning on its red and blue lights. When would this day end?

"Shit," Harris muttered, seeing the colored lights. "This is all your fault."

I couldn't take this treatment anymore. I rather hoped he'd get arrested. I'd be the only one available to give a statement about the Ace Graham incident, and I'd be telling it as it really happened.

"I'm sick of this, Captain Harris!" I raged, slamming my fists down onto my lap. "Just let me out of the goddamn car! I'm done with this police academy! And you have a serious problem with the truth!"

Now he was staring at me incredulously. For the moment, he didn't know what to say.

I grabbed the door handle, but it didn't open; I'd meant it to be a dramatic gesture and by the widening of Harris's eyes, it was.

"You tryin' to get me fired, Carnegie? What the hell is wrong with you?" he growled, his face darkening with anger, the loud siren of the police car steadily increasing in volume as it approached us. I could feel my eyes shaking and all of a sudden my eyes were stinging. Damn. I was not going to cry; no way.

"If all cops are like you," I blurted, "then I don't want to be one. Just let me out and let me live my life!"

I saw his fingers gripping the steering wheel with such tightness that his knuckles had turned white.

"Most cops aren't like me," he replied, his tone softer. "That makes me one of the best cops."

"Bullshit!" I spat, impulsively spitting out the first word in my head. A mistake, but I continued hurling insults. "That's why they replaced you with whoever the hell Mahoney is!" I screamed. "They've been trying to keep you away from the station since you took me to the academy!"

I could see veins sticking out of Harris's forehead and it appeared very much that he was either suffocating or having a coronary. Before I could comment, I saw Harris grit his teeth and steel his jaw. What the hell was he going to do?

Suddenly Harris put his foot on the gas and I was slammed back in my seat as he sped straight through a red light, through a tunnel, the engine roaring as the nighttime world flew past. The cop behind us was out of sight within five minutes of Harris's speed demon driving. With the pursuing cop still out of sight and now surrounded by rolling hills of tall weeds and pine trees, Harris promptly turned and drove his Corvette straight through the weeds until we were at least fifty yards off of the road. He turned off his car and turned to me. I shivered at the rage in every muscle of his face.

"What did you just say to me?" he asked me in a quiet yet extremely dangerous voice, his eyes narrowed so as to look menacing.

"You know what I said," I replied, attempting to look just as pissed off, though he was still winning in that regard.

"You got no idea what you're talkin' about," he replied in that low, scary voice. His Texas accent was quite noticeable now, which made it obvious how angry he really was. "I spend my whole life catchin' lowlifes and you tell me I got a problem with the truth? Mahoney was a criminal—a menace—when he was forced to join the academy. He's a smart-ass and a womanizer; I, on the other hand, am respectful towards women."

"My ass," I scoffed, crossing my arms and looking out the window. Darkness surrounded us. If I hadn't known how incompetent he was with a gun, I would have been worried for my life out there in the country with not a soul in sight.

"I am your instructor and you got no right—"

"I quit the academy about five minutes ago, remember? You're just a cop now, not my instructor. What are you going to do, arrest me?"

He could only stare at me with shock and anger, his jaw dropped. What the hell was I getting myself into?

"Not yet," he replied in a menacing tone. "What do you mean, 'my ass?" I haven't done anything that was improper—"

"You constantly insult me all the time, like calling me a hooker. You wanted me to meet you in the gym at night by myself. Not only that, but you were spying on me in the shower…."

"That was Jones's fault," he muttered, shaking his head. "That's the honest truth."

"I don't trust you," I admitted. I shifted uncomfortably in the seat, irritated at the awkward situation I was now in; sitting in the dark with a man I hated but to whom I owed a debt. "How about this; I'll make your false statement and then I want you to drop me off at my apartment."

He leaned towards me, and I could smell his breath on my face.

"I'm not your chauffeur, Carnegie. Instead of stealin' Corsicas, why don't you tell your rich mommy and daddy to hire you a driver?"

I didn't even think before I proceeded to slap the police captain across the face.

A/N: Thanks for your reviews this past chapter, especially guest, Shelle007, LEO & weasleytwins! It was those reviews that drove me to want to finish this story! Please let me know what you think about this chapter! I am planning on finishing this story and your reviews reminded me of why I love to write!