Page 20 of Voracious

And then he places his hand on my shoulder and firmly squeezes. It makes me flinch and stiffen my shoulders. Christopher does the same thing to me. And then one word comes out, the same one my insane stepbrother says to me whenever I leave the house.

“Behave.”

7

STACEY

The glass door slides open, and I push myself into the building of the town’s police station, somehow managing to move my feet. My entire body is shaking uncontrollably, exactly how my heart is beating in my chest. The adrenaline is the only thing keeping me going. I feel so close to passing out, I might fall to the ground at any moment.

The reception is empty.

I lean over the desk to see the computer on and clipboards scattered around. There’s a mobile, a packet of cigarettes and a magazine opened on a celeb gossip page.

I nervously tap the counter and wait, my hands jittering. I look down at my palms – at the blood dried on them.

“Can I help you?”

I spin around to see a young officer. “Oh… I… I need to re-report a crime. I was attacked.”

Are my words slurring? I have no idea. I tried to make myself sick on the way here, but I nearly crashed in the process.

The place is so bright, I need to screw my eyes a little to see.

I’m covered in blood, and my hair is a mess, my face swollen. He doesn’t flinch at my appearance. I’m certain my lip is split open, but it’s too numb to know.

He glances down at the paperwork he’s holding, scans the words then looks up at me again as if he’s inspecting a crazy person.

Maybe he is. Did all that just actually happen?

The guy nods and gestures to a door. “Follow me.”

I hover there for a second, swaying, looking around to see if anyone else is here before I follow. We walk down a corridor, my fingers sliding on the wall as we turn left and enter an office. He tosses down his papers and sits behind his desk.

“Okay,” he starts, nodding towards the chair opposite him. I drop into it, gripping the armrests. “Are you feeling well?”

I stare at him – I think I nod.

“You want to report a crime. Tell me what happened.”

I gulp, sitting on my hands. The last person I told about Chris was Tobias, and he’s been MIA. My dad is dead. And no one else but his deluded friends know how Chris treats me. I glance at his badge – Officer Bennett – then let out a breath.

“My stepbrother attacked me, then… then he killed someone.” Even I know my words are erratically spoken.

He’s unfazed as he writes the details on a notepad, nodding. “Okay. Tell me from the start. Do you know your attacker?”

I frown – I just told him he was my stepbrother. Or did I not say that?

Regardless of his terrible attention to detail, I let the words fall from my lips, unable to stop the tears or the spittle dripping from my mouth. I tell him everything, like I’ve found some new courage to speak about it – from when Chris started abusing me at aged fourteen to tonight. I show him my hands, my busted knuckles from punching Chris, gesturing to my face when I tell him about him beating me, then, somehow, I manage another breath.

“Where is the body?” is all he asks. Maybe I imagined telling him everything else.

“The farm road, near Inverkip. You turn left at the park and it’s about twenty minutes north.” The words sound forced, as if I have to physically push each one out.

“And you’re positive he’s deceased?”

I nod once. “His entire head was bashed in, and there was brain matter on the ground.” Was there? Yes, because I didn’t kiss my brother back. “I should have kissed him.”

“Excuse me?”

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