Chapter Fourteen
Istoodto the side as one of the officers named Johnson questioned Taylor.
Instinct borne from being in a gang urged me to get away as quickly as possible but I couldn't leave Taylor on her own. It didn't help that cops reminded me of some choices I regretted, but there was nothing I could do to wipe it from my past or memory.
I kept my concentration on Taylor beside me. She still looked pale and frightened but at least she had stopped crying. Seeing her this vulnerable tugged at something in the middle of my chest, bringing out the protectiveness I felt for her. But I told myself it was normal to have empathy for her. It was a natural human emotion.
"What's your name?" the officer asked.
"Taylor Price."
"Taylor Price," he murmured as he jotted it down in his small notebook. "Your name sounds familiar. Have you had any run-ins with the law?"
For some reason she looked nervous but there was no reason for her to feel that way. She was a victim. Only people who were hiding something needed to be nervous. My eyes narrowed on her.
She swallowed.
"What happened?" Officer Johnson asked just before he shot me a questioning look.
Not only did I have that look about me that seemed to shout to law and order that I was up to no good, I had in fact lived up to that expectation. But for once I wasn't in the wrong and I refused to allow the cop to intimidate me. I kept my features schooled as he studied me briefly.
The scared look in Taylor's eyes made me move closer to her to put a supportive arm around her shoulder.
"Did he say anything during the attack?" The officer's question brought her attention back to him.
"He said that I was his whore," she said after a slight hesitation.
Whore. Anger sparked to life. I couldn't associate that word with the beautiful and innocent girl who I knew. I wanted to erase the word from her memory. Who on earth would say something like that to Taylor? The same type who would try and hurt her.
"Did you get a look at him?" the officer asked.
"No." She trembled as she wrapped her arms around her body like she was trying to hold herself together. It stoked the anger brewing inside of me.
"Was there anything you noticed that would help us identify the attacker?"
She shook her head and looked defeated. Despite her not answering the question, the officer scribbled down something on his notepad.
"Have there been any other incidents that you think might be related to this?"
Then I remembered how I was convinced Taylor's drink had been spiked the first night I had met her. How could I have forgotten? Was there a chance it was related to this attack? An uneasy feeling settled over me and I stiffened.
"Yes," she said, rubbing her forehead. "There have been a few weird incidents."
A few?
"Take your time and start from the beginning," the officer suggested.
She told him about the night she’d passed out at my house party but she couldn't remember drinking that much. But when she revealed another incident that involved finding her underwear on her bed with the word 'Whore' written in red marker on them, it took me by surprise. I looked down at her, wondering why she hadn't said anything? What else had she kept from me?
Why would she confide in you? You're not her boyfriend.But I still didn't like that I had no idea what had been going on. I tightened my arm around her.
"Why didn't you report your drink being spiked?" the officer questioned.
"I couldn't prove it," she replied.
"Did you keep the underwear?"
She shook her head.