Thread: Scaremonger (Mr Quixotic & Lait)

Zai's reaction wasn't unexpected. Not after the woman had made her statement at the Hospital, then walked into the Station of her own accord to press her case. After all, Aziarah D'Amicid had been brutally raped. Did Brock really think that she was going to plant a smile on her face, drop the accusations, and pretend the incident had never taken place, as he'd suggested she do? Not a snowball's chance in hell, which is why he'd decided that the best strategy was a full-on frontal attack, so that she'd be left in no doubt as to where she stood. That was the reason Cole had been invited, and greeted the Sheriff as Dad, just as the boy had been instructed to do. At the party, it had been four against one, and he'd wanted to make it clear, that here, in the police station she was again outnumbered this time by one man who had more influence, reach, and power, than the original assailants combined, and his flesh-and-blood, for whom he'd give his life to protect. Chief of Police in a town such as Eden equated to control, and the bitch didn't stand a chance. However, she required time to come to that conclusion for herself, which is why the elder man didn't interrupt her tirade. What other options did she have but accept the facts as they stood, when the highest authority in town had investigated, and rejected her claims. Search out the media for assistance? That concept didn't concern the Sheriff in the slightest the local reporters and television stations were in his pocket, reliant on the Police Department for information information which, if withheld, would quickly see their companies driven out of business by competitors. The coastal community of Eden didn't exactly attract the Woodward's and Bernstein's of the Journalistic profession, where dogged persistence, and discovery of the truth, was of more importance than being able to put food on your family's table, or provide for your children's education. Azairah's demeanour, and the pain obvious in her words, brought no empathy from Brock. A Police Officer, he was, sworn to 'Protect and Serve', but the career hadn't been embarked on because he gave a shit about people. No, the sole reason for his chosen profession was because it allowed him to exert power and control, and provided a legitimate outlet for Brocks's violent tendencies. Criminal's were arrested because that was his job, and being seen to do that job well could lead to the achievement of his ultimate goal that of being elected Mayor of Eden. The Sheriff would apprehend anyone, for anything, if it led to a drop in crime-rates, and caused him to become a darling of the voters. Except, that is, for his son, Cole. The boy had remained silent after greeting his Father. With his back resting against the door, and a smirk on his face, he stared directly at the woman he'd raped, and enjoyed the shocked expression at the revelation of his relationship to the Sheriff. The High-School football hero was barely able to stop himself from laughing aloud. Fucking priceless. She ranted and raved, and bitched and moaned, and accused them of everything under the sun, and they let her get it all out. Why shouldn't she be upset? Every word Azairah D'Amici spoke was the truth. The only reaction came at the mention of Brock's ex-wife. His eyes darkened, and a hand clenched into a fist by his side. Teeth bared, his lips curled up, and he took a step forward. Then, he caught himself, and instead of screaming or slapping the bitch into submission as he'd intended, he chuckled, and lifted his hand to make the sign of the cross on his chest. My poor wife is dead, may god rest her soul. Any thought that the words and gesture were intended with sincerity was surely put to rest with the next sentence uttered by Sheriff Douglas, with eyes locked on Azairah. She once used to have spunk, but I beat it out of her before she died now get the fuck out, before I do the same to you. There were no camera's operating in the room, no microphones switched on for others to hear the conversation for anyone outside watching through the one-way glass, it was if they were viewing a silent movie one for which the ending was known far in advance. Brock motioned for Cole to leave the entrance and provide Zai room to exit. The young man slid aside, and the two men watched her walk to the door. As she passed him, Cole reached out to brush her arm with his fingertips, and leaned to place his lips close to her ear. You know what I'm sorry for. I'm sorry I didn't make you suck my cock first, or let my buddies take a turn. Next time, bitch. Cole Douglas then slammed the door behind her, and turned to face his father. Is it over, Dad? It's over, Son. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Unlike the sworn Officers who stood around, laughing and joking, drinking coffee and eating doughnuts as they pretended to go about their business, with one eye on what was occurring in the Interview room Kyle Evans watched it all unfold in complete silence, from the isolation of dispatch. The Deputies, or blue soldiers as he referred to them, kept to their own kind, and, deliberately or not, Kyle was never invited along to any social events, or asked to participate in the consumption of beers, and swapping of stories. Apart from when he radioed to direct them to a job, they treated Kyle Evans as if he didn't exist. And that suited Kyle just fine. Ever since his Army discharge - the bastard Government hadn't even provided him a pension, claiming his disability to be an 'inherent mental disorder' rather than in any way related to post traumatic stress -, and subsequent break-up with Amy, he'd been a loner. Befriend no-one, avoid attention, and when the hurt became too much to bear, seek vicarious revenge on his ex-wife. That was his only goal in life, and the more pain he caused in it's achievement, the more it relieved his own. Kyle Evans wasn't crazy, he was aware every moment of every day, of exactly what he was doing. And why. As Azairah approached, and rapped on the glass, barely two feet away from where he sat, it was if she had seen him, and deliberately sought him out, begging and pleading in silent screams, for his help. Her mouth opened, but he couldn't hear the words, and he knew she couldn't see him, but still, another tear rolled down his cheek, and when he stood to place his palms against where her knuckles had touched, he recognised something in Azairah that no normal man would, and it sent a shiver down his spine. The woman's eyes weren't really eyes they were nothing but blacks pits of despair, and a doorway to the depths of hell. Evans should know, he gazed into those very same eyes each time he looked in the mirror. He could have helped her. No-one else would, but he could have. Kyle was trained in un-armed combat, and possessed the ability, with the element of surprise, to have taken down each and every man within the station before they could blink, including Sheriff Brock Edwards, and his son, Cole. He could have done that, then slid his arms around the woman, and whispered a promise that she'd be safe and, with time, the pain would recede. But what good would it have done? It would have been a lie the pain never faded, not truly, and things would never be okay. Life could never be as it once was that you needed to be selfish to survive, and only look out for yourself, was a message that had been burned into his soul the past two years, and there was nothing he could do to help. Trust no-one, care for no-one, get close to no-one, allow no-one to get close to you, and you couldn't be hurt, had become Kyle Evans motto. The woman would need find her own way to deal with the pain a reason to keep living, and a purpose. As he had. When the telephone rang as she exited the Interview Room, Evans pulled his gaze away, and answered the call, Sheriff's Department, what's your emergency. As his mind had become adept at doing with those matters it preferred not to dwell on, so that room could be left for hate, the woman was already being forced from his memory. Little did Kyle Evans know what fate had in store for he and Azairah D'Amici.