Page 21 of Twisted Trust
Hillary scribbles something quickly on her notes.
“Look, what is this about? I didn’t harm Scott. He’s not in any danger. I was mugged. That’s it. I don’t know who reported me or what they hope to gain, but I have done nothing wrong.”
Hillary lifts her head and adjusts her glasses. “Given your history, we have to follow up on these kinds of complaints.”
“My history? Every one of those complaints you’ve ever followed has been bull— empty. I’m not the only parent who takes their kid to work or is late on pick up. It doesn’t make me neglectful.”
Hillary returns to her notes and sighs. “I’ll ask you again, Miss Jackson. Have you filed a police report?”
Shit.
I have no intention of filing a police report because doing so would create the risk of being tracked down.
But if Levi is behind this, then is there really any point in hiding? “Not yet. I was in the hospital and then I came home and slept.”
“You left the hospital against medical advice. Vanished, in fact.” She fixes me with a steely look and I tighten my grip on Scott’s waist as he wolfs down his frosted flakes.
“I wanted to get my son home.”
“And your injuries, could they have posed a threat to your caring for your son?”
“Clearly not,” I reply tightly. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you, would I?”
“The risk remains,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Sure.” Every word from her feels like an accusation. My heart won’t stop pounding and the painkillers have swiftly worn off.
The last thing I want to do is take pills in front of her, so I need her to leave.
Immediately.
“Who reported me?” Not that it would be anyone else.
“These reports of concern are made anonymously,” Hillary says and she stands. “Mind if I take a look around?”
I mind greatly, but the game doesn’t care how I think or feel.
There are probably real children out there in need of dire help, and instead, Hillary wastes her time with me, all because my old boss back at one of the casinos reported me for bringing my kid to work one day.
It was just one day when I was still working in catering.
A mistake, but Hillary’s had it out for me ever since I talked my way out of it.
“Sure,” I sigh, turning my attention to Scott. “Make yourself at home.”
Hillary stays for twenty minutes wandering my apartment, likely looking for something to pin on me, but she finds nothing.
In the end, all she can do is leave while giving me a verbal warning to send her the police report once it’s filed.
As she leaves, Cameron exits his apartment and greets me with a smiling yawn.
“Wow, what did you do to deserve a visit from her?”
“Honestly?” I say as I try to detangle Scott from my leg. “My existence.”
“Doesn’t she have anything better to do?” He frowns, watching her over the edge of the railing as she returns to her car.
“I’m her pet project. She’ll never leave—Scott, honey, you have to let go. Mommy can’t walk if you cling to me like that.”
