Page 107 of Hitting the Goal Line
“My colleague told me that you had evidence,” Officer King says, a few seconds after I finished telling him everything that I’ve been going through.
I nod. “I do.”
“Do you have it on you?” he asks as he looks up from his notes.
Again, I give him a nod.
Without saying anything else, I pull out my phone and go straight to my pictures and scroll through until I find my hidden folder. After I unlock the folder, I place my phone on the table and slide it over to Officer King.
When Elijah and I got together, taking pictures so that they could possibly serve as evidence one day was the furthest thing from my mind. I didn’t even take them when he left marks on my arms the first time that he shoved me.
I didn’t think about taking pictures until Christmas. When I saw the way my neck bruised after he choked me, I decided that it was best to take a picture. Even though I told myself countless of times that it was never going to happen again, another part of me told me that I had to have record of it just in case it did. Because the authorities are more willing to believe someone with evidence, right?
So, I took pictures of that bruise and every bruise that came after it, including the ones from this morning. There might not be many, but it’s enough.
Officer King looks at all the pictures that I have saved, nodding at each one and taking notes as he goes along.
After a minute or two, he hands me back my phone.
“Would you be able to send me those pictures?” he asks, nodding toward the device in my hand.
“Yes,” I say.
Within seconds, the friendly officer rips out a piece of paper from his notepad and quickly writes down an email before handing it to me. I send the photos over to him right away.
“In reference to this morning. Do you think Blake Jacobi acted in self-defense? That he went after Mr. Swanson in order to defend you and himself?” King asks.
I answered those questions earlier after Blake got arrested and the arresting officers came by the hospital to questioning me, but even if I did, I still don’t hesitate in answering them again. “One hundred percent. I’ve known him all of my life, and Blake isn’t one to look for a fight, no matter what he does for a living. He will only go after someone if that person is threatening him or someone he loves.”
Officer King nods as he looks down and takes a few more notes.
“For right now, I think that I have all the information that I need. If there is anything else that you might remember, feel free to give me a call at the number on this card,” he says, as he pulls a card out of his pocket and hands it over to me. “If I have any question for you, I will call the number that you gave my colleague. Do you have any questions for me?”
“Blake, will he be able to go home tonight?” I ask, wanting to see Blake more than anything.
Officer King gives me a closed lip smile. “I will try, but given the charges, he might have to stand before a judge before he is able to go home.” My whole body deflates. “But given what you just told me, I think there’s a possible chance that we can get the charges dropped. It might take a few hours, and it may not work, but we can try.”
“That’s all that I ask.” I say, giving him a small but appreciative smile.
We don’t spend much longer in the interrogation room. After he tells me a bit more of information about what to expect about this whole process and how I can go home to Chicago whenever I’d like, we go our separate ways.
Walking out the police station takes a lot more effort than I was expecting. I feel drained but also defeated because Blake isn’t walking out with me.
I think about going somewhere to wait just in case Blake does get released today, but I have nowhere to go.
I’m in a strange city where the only people I know here, are either in jail, in a hospital, or out of state.
So instead of calling a car or jumping on a bus to take me somewhere, I decide to head over to the coffee shop across the street that looks to be open. I can wait things out there, and once they close, I can go find a hotel for the night and wait it out there, before coming back in the morning and repeating the process.
Because no matter what, I’m not leaving San Francisco until Blake is with me. Whether he hates me or not.
I’m going to wait for him until the end of time. I’m declaring that right now.
And I don’t care if it scares me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
BLAKE
