Page 275 of Wrong Pucking Player

“Meow!” Muffin agrees.

“Alright. I believe you. Too many were saying similar things. We still have to investigate, and I have to figure out why this is happening, but I will do my best.”

“What… what if they don’t believe us,” I whisper. “This is a setup. I know it is.”

She gives me a look of sympathy before she reaches over to pat my knee.

“We’re going to figure things out. If it is a setup, I specialize in that department and will not let any foul play get ahead of trying to ruin your boyfriend’s career. Just take deep breaths and we’ll have you both checked at the station. If any of those other officers try to give you trouble request me or Officer Klettskarð. We’re both from NYC and specialize in this field. Things will be okay.”

“O-One more thing,” I pled. “Is there any way of contacting Oliver? Um… Oliver DeCosta?”

“Oliver. He was actually in my office earlier today. I can get a hold of him. Is he a family member?”

“Of Oscar’s. He’s related to Oscar.”

“Very well. I’ll notify him on our ride to the station. Hang tight, okay?”

“Thank you.” I’m not relieved, but I can breathe without feeling like swords are digging into my chest.

When the car engine roars to life and we’re driving down the road with sirens on, I’m fighting not to panic.

I have to be strong. I have to be strong. For everyone.

The soft whimper to my right makes me look at Katherine, who has her head down as she whimpers.

“Katherine… don’t cry,” I whisper. I can’t comfort her with my hands cuffed, but I press myself to her side which encourages her to rest her forehead on my shoulder while her arms hook around my bruised arm for dear life. She’s still shaking like a leaf, and I can only wonder what flashbacks she’s dealing with.

“You’re safe, Katherine. No one is going to hurt you, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “It’s… my fault. It’s always my fault.”

“It’s not your fault. We know who did this. We’re going to figure it out once all this calms down. Just breathe, okay?”

She nods into my shoulder, whimpering a few more times, before she settles against me. With Muffins purring in the background, I realize she’s asleep, the exhaustion finally taking her.

I wish I could sleep, but I’m riddled with nothing but anxiety as I fight the tightness in my own chest.

Please, Oscar. Be okay. Please.

BETRAYED BY YOUR OWN BEST FRIEND

~OSCAR~

“Should I even ask?”

I let out a sigh as I sink into the seat facing Officer Klettskarð.

Private Investigator and NYPD’s best in the task force for serial offenders.

“I didn’t do shit,” I groan and need either a smoke or something to aid how unsteady I feel. My bruised hand is still trembling and my breaths haven’t regulated to a normal pace since my arrival here.

“Obviously, I know that,” Officer Klettskarð acknowledges. “But whoever hates your guts is throwing you under the bus on social media.” He grabs an iPad from the drawer, puts in the code, opens the app, and slides it over to me. Then he opens a pack of cigarettes and offers me one.

“If this is going to be some sort of charge, I won’t take one,” I grunt.

“No one can see us. I made sure to take your brother’s suggestion to renovate our office when we arrived here.”

“Thank fucking God,” I groan and take a stick.

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