Page 39 of The Final Straw

Chapter 21

Van

"You got it, seriously, that quick?” I’m fucking dumbfounded that Bre was able to do what I wasn’t. I should have let her do it from the beginning and be the one to show up at the restaurant instead.

“Yep, I should really look into a new profession; acting, police work, who knows? Now get those legs moving so we can win back your girl and get the trash taken care of.”

We rush out the door together. She’s moving a mile a minute with purpose in each step.

“Where are we going?” I ask, out of breath when we finally reach the car.

“To the police station to give them their proof. Then we can sit back and watch as Barbi gets what she deserves. Once we show Olivia everything, she’ll have no choice but to forgive you. There’s nothing you did wrong.”

Bre hits the unlock button on her key fob, just before opening the driver’s door and sliding behind the wheel.

My stomach twists into knots. Is this it? Am I finally going to get the woman I love back.?

She rolls down the window and yells. “Are you coming or not?”

I run to the passenger side and get in. Bre doesn’t even give me a chance to shut the door before she’s speeding out of the parking lot.

“Alpha” by Little Destroyer plays on the radio on the way to the precinct, and she blares the song after telling me it’s one of several on her War mix on Spotify. I cradle my phone in my hand, flipping through my photo gallery of the pictures of Olivia and me.

Each one is another knife in my gut. If I hadn't gone out that night, I’d never be in this situation. Olivia would never have thought I cheated on her, nor would she have fallen into the arms of those older men.

Please let me still have a chance of winning her back.

The ticking beat of the turn signal pulls my gaze up as she turns into the parking lot of the police station. Memories of the laughter and ridicule I endured the last time I was here flood my thoughts.

A sharp pain cuts through me, as fear seeps in that it’ll be the same result this time. It doesn’t matter that I have proof of Barbi’s crimes. I’m still a man trying to accuse a woman of rape.

“STOPPPP!” Bre smacks me with her hand across my chest.

“What the fuck did you do that for?”

“You’re in your fucking head. It’s not the same as last time. It’s not just a video of her having sex with you that we’re showing them. But for the record, that was ample proof. It’s clear you were fucking drugged. We have her admitting to the rape. If they don’t do something this time, they’re corrupt as fuck, and we’ll escalate this shit higher.”

I just shake my head. If the police don’t believe me, then there’s no way Olivia is going to. Bre pulls into a parking spot and shuts off the car.

“Who else would we take it to if they don’t listen?”

“The governor, the news, fuck, anyone who will listen. Then we’ll sue the fucking police for obstruction of justice, defamation of character, anything we fucking can.”

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

I blow out a deep breath and open my door, seeing Bre do the same thing out of the corner of my eye.

We walk side by side to the front door. Taking hold of the handle, I pull it open, allowing Bre to enter in before me.

Bre heads toward the desk, shoulders back and with determination in her step. “We need to speak with Detective Fischer.”

“And what is it pertaining to?” the older, fat officer behind the desk asks as he smacks on gum.

Fucking annoying as shit and all I want to do is gouge out his eyeballs as he’s doing it.

“A rape. We reported it already, but we have more evidence,” Bre snaps.

“Hold on.” Officer Butts, according to his badge, stands and walks away, annoyance written all over his face.

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