Halloween House Party (5)

Chapter 5:

“Officers, I think there’s been some sort of mistake here.” I try to reason with them, my hands firmly up in surrender not wanting to add getting shot to my list of unfortunate fucking circumstances tonight.

“Ma’am I’m going to need you to walk slowly towards us, with your hands on your head.”

Oh goodie, they think I’m at fault here seeing as my ass is the only one dumb enough to be at the front of the house and my clothes and hands are covered in blood. Mostly mine but they’re not going to ask what belongs to who. “Officers, I did nothing wrong. This is my blood.”

“Ma’am what is your name?”

“Why do you need to know?” I ask wary, still slowly approaching the cop car, my heart pounding harder with each step. Seeing as the only other option is trying to outrun a bullet, I’ll take my chances with the silver chains they’re most likely about to lock around my wrists.

“Ma’am just tell us your name” the late twenty something tall woman officer with dark coloured skin and a shaved head cuts in.

They have yet to take their guns off me which doesn’t sit well. “Quinn Harlem.” I’m trying to act as polite and calm as I can but when two cops with fucking guns, have their aim directed on you it’s a little hard to breathe easy.

“Miss Harlem, please put your hands on the hood of the car, and no sudden movements.”

“Are you arresting me” I ask nervous, doing just as they ask.

“Do you have anything in your possession that could be considered a weapon?” The demanding officer with the build of a late twenty-something, dusty blonde hair and glasses walks up behind me, twisting my wrists behind my back, securing them in handcuffs before frisking me.

“Not like I could fit anything in this get up” I bite back, my patience waring even thinner than paper thin.

“Want to explain why you have blood all on your top Miss Harlem?”

I roll my eyes; thankful he can’t see me. “It’s a longer story than I feel like telling” I admit truthfully and a little sassily.

“You got quite an attitude Miss. Feel like taking a ride down to the station or would you be kind enough to answer my questions here?”

I let out the sigh of frustration I’ve been holding since the moment I stupidly decided to obey the officer’s request and come to the car. “Fine, how can I help officer?” The sugar sweetness of my words feeling like a self-induced toothache.

“Better. Now why do you have blood all over your top?”

Twisting me around, leaning against the door I look to the woman officer, her petite build slightly turning me on, the only thing keeping me calm as I’m roughly interrogated by the guy cop. “I want her to ask me” I slip some of that sensual sass in my tone, biting my lip hoping she’ll play along.

“Officer Stanton is not a toy for you to play with Miss Harlem” he growls, getting up in my face, pressing my wrists into my back.

“Fine, fine. Look this is all a complete misunderstanding. If you’ll take me back up to the house, I’ll explain everything right up.”

“Why don’t you just answer Officer Reeves questions instead of sending us on a wild goose chase.” Officer Stanton sasses back, standing some distance away yet emitting that authoritative presence all the same.

“I would never” I mock outrage, but they don't seem to be buying it.

“Cut the bullshit, it’s been a long night kid. Tell us what the Hell is going on or we’ll bring you in on obstruction charges. Understood?”

I roll my eyes again, no longer caring if I piss them off. “Sly’s been murdered, but I didn’t do it.” I give them each a seriously hard stare, hoping to translate my innocence across.

“Who’s Sly?”

Griding my teeth together, biting back the rising bile, I spit out his real name once more, my tongue despising the betrayal. “His real name’s Jason Vruger. Sly’s his stage name. But I didn’t…do it.” Spacing out the words, I confirm my innocence once more, though they hardly seem interested.

“And how do you know he’s been murdered” Officer Reeves asks, a sick smile on his face, as if I’m about to convict myself with the answer.

“I saw his dead fucking body” I emphasise getting up in his face, Officer Stanton stepping a foot or so closer, prepared to breakup the throwdown her partner and I are about to have.

“Watch the tone Miss Harlem” he bites back just as hard, meeting me halfway.

“Do you want to see the body or not” I inch just a little closer, more than ready myself for whatever this asshole wants to throw at me, physical of verbal.

“If you two are well and done with the fucking foreplay, would you mind showing us this dead body you speak of Miss Harlem?”

I notice her harshly sweet tone, wishing to break up whatever was going on for the moment between me and her partner. “Sure, mind removing the shackles, Officer?”

“Cuffs stay on” he says, keeping his hard stare on me. “After you” he steps aside letting me walk back up, before Stanton matches my pace, holding one of my wrists just in case I do something stupid, like try to run off.

It takes longer to climb back up, the two officers hot on my trail as we approach the backyard. “Don’t be alarmed everyone, but the cops are…here.” Except there’s fucking nobody. Empty cups, discarded plates and crushed cigarettes and joints lie about the yard, but their owners have long since disappeared.

“Who are you talking to” Reeves asks, trying but failing to hide that fucking smirk on his lips.

“The body’s in here” I ignore his teasing snark, motioning for us to go inside. Following me in, we step through the sliding doors into the lit-up kitchen. “In there” I motion with my head, stopping my steps just outside refusing to go in.

“LAPD” Reeves announces stepping through, that same gun pointed at anyone who might be hiding around the corner. “Uh, Stanton. You’re going to want to come see this.” The tone in his voice gives me pause. Seeing as I’m now attached to her at the hip, I’m dragged back into the room that ruined my night, currently housing a dead fucking body. Only it isn’t Sly who’s leaning at the bottom of the sink sitting in a pool of blood.

“This is Officer Stanton, we have a female, mid-twenties, several stab wounds, send an ambulance” she states into the radio on her shoulder as I feel my legs give out.