Page 58 of Kings Don't Break
“Nope.”
“I need to get in contact with him.”
He flicks his eyes up at me from behind his reading glasses. “That’s too bad.”
“Hey!” Blake growls, stepping forward. He slams his palm on the desk counter. “You’re gonna stop being a lazy piece of shit and help her—or I’m gonna introduce you to my fist.”
“Blake—”
“Get your hands off my desk,” says the clerk stiffly, though he flinched at Blake’s aggression.
“What’s going on here?”
The three of us look up to find Lieutenant Gillard wandering over with the amused smile he’d worn in the Buy N’ Save parking lot. His lips stretch wider at the sight of me, and he beckons me over.
I don’t hesitate to follow, pushing past the waist-high door flap separating the lobby area from the rest of the station. I let Blake know I’ll be okay with a reassuring nod.
“Mrs. Stricklin,” Gillard says in a jovial tone. “What can I do for you? Stricklin’s off today, but surely you know that?—”
“Ken and I have separated. I need to file a police report and restraining order,” I interrupt. I watch his smile drop off and his confusion emerge with a knit of his brows, then he seems to notice the gash above my brow. I know because his eyes shift across my face, tracking the remnants of my injuries. They end on the healing split of my lip.
“Mrs. Stricklin… Korine…”
“I have photos. I took them a few days after the incident. They show the extent of the injuries.”
“Korine, let’s slow down a second. You’re not implying—you’re saying Stricklin caused all this?” He gestures to my face as if suddenly he’s repulsed by the fading bruises he sees. He takes half a step back to survey me all over. “He hasn’t said a word to any of us. He’s been acting like it’s business as usual.”
“Please, I’d rather skip any personal talk?—”
“I’m sure whatever happened between the two of you can be handled… in a more discreet manner.”
A chill runs down my spine. “Lieutenant, I was attacked. I’ve been harassed. It’s my right to file a report about what’s happened to me.”
“Stricklin’s got a big career ahead of him.”
“His career has nothing to do with this. He abused me.”
“Many encounters like this are complicated. Oftentimes, neither party’s innocent. There’s guilt with both sides,” Gillard explains, raising a brow at me. “You realize if we went down that road—if he makes any allegations against you—we’d have to do our due diligence to investigate? If you put your hands on him at all, if you left a scratch on him, you could be in serious trouble?—”
“Me?! My eye was swollen shut! I could barely walk!”
“I’d have to hear Stricklin’s version of the story. I’m sure his is more than a little different.”
“Is that Korine I hear?” Captain Vargas calls from the other side of the station floor. He maneuvers through the short maze of police officers’ desks and comes over to join us. He resembles a tanned Santa Claus ‘til he seems to catch on that our conversation isn’t going well. Then he’s glancing from Gillard to me with a stroke of his beard. “Korine, whatever you’re here about, I’m sure this can be handled in house.”
“That’s what I have been telling her,” Gillard says with a nod of his head. “There’s no reason to do things based off emotion and go ruining anybody’s career.”
“Never mind. I’ll see myself out.” I take a step back to turn around.
“Now, Korine, we can talk to him?—”
“Don’t bother. I’m being emotional, remember?”
They call after me several more times, but I don’t dignify them with any responses or even a look back. Blake’s still in the lobby when I return. He rushes toward me with concern etched onto his face, looking as if he was on the verge of storming into the rest of the station if I hadn’t returned just now.
“You alright? How’d it go?”
“I’d rather not talk about it. Can we just get out of here?”
