Roman

02

♡ Roman ♡

"Sit" the officer by the name of Greene commanded as she led me into the interrogation room.

"So are you going to tell me why I'm in here or we just going to sit and braid each other's hair" I asked in a bored tone as my question raised a snarl on the officers face.

"Susan... no not Susan, doesn't suit your face. Leanne.. Leanne" I tested the name out on my tongue "nope, let's try again shall we"

I slumped in the seat and squinted my eyes, watching Greene carefully. I paid attention to her facial structure, her eyes, the character beneath them. All things that obviously wouldn't tell me her name but let me observe her.

"Patty" I blurted out, Greene twitched seeing the twinkle of entertainment in my eyes.

" God I can't imagine anyone wanting to take your guardianship, I'd go insane hearing you every second of the day" she responded while sending me an appalled expression.

"Ouch you wound me" I responded, faking a pouty lip " anyway, soooo..."

" Who are you selling too"

" I don't know what your talking about" I said blankly, as I inhaled and sighed out.

Don't worry though, I've been through this many times with mostly Derry and each time I'm let off for whatever they arrested me for. I give them nothing when they ask, and due to lack of evidence on my person or around me there is nothing that the judge and police can use to charge me with a crime.

She continues on this route of questioning for over and hour judging by the clock hung on the wall. Eventually growing tired of my lack of responses she gets up and walks towards the door.

"Your brother will be arriving in a couple hours to take guardianship of you" now this, this is what I call a twist, I for sure thought I was headed towards a foster home. I've been to a couple of them since I've been in New York but each time it was only for a small amount of time until I somehow ended back up with my 'uncle'.

I only somewhat know of my brothers because of the gang, but I've never really looked into them apart from gathering that they're the French mafia. Of course I remember them from before my parents death, but after I was taken into Russian territory and grew up there, I guess the hope of returning to them kind of washed out. And even if I wanted to, I'm not sure which area of France they're in.

Plus, I'm not sure they'd really like who I've become.

If I could change myself, I promise I would. I never wanted to be like this, but its how I grew up. And I cant go back and change any of that, all those experiments and beatings, the start of my addiction, all of those other kids that seemed to disappear day by day until I was all that was left.

I clenched my jaw as my skin started to feel like it was crawling. I started slightly grinding the skin on my wrists against the handcuffs, my skin starting to break and cut as I tried to relieve the feeling as I thought back as to when the last time I had a fix was.

My eyes flow around the room, the stereotypical two sided glass window in front of me. Looking at my reflection, the signs of my need for a fix are apparent. My cheekbones sunken in creating shadows on my face, my eyes almost grazed over and half closed, my skin pale and sickly as my lips are broken open and matching to my skin tone.

⚜ Remy ⚜

Holy shit am I glad to be off that plane.

Stepping off the jet, I head towards my company's blacked out SUV. Once entering it and informing my driver on the address of the station, we leave the hanger and start down the streets of New York.