chapter twenty-five

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Things happen so fast. 

Human nature is to believe that some things will never happen to us. That, somehow, we're immune to the bad things that we see happening to other people. We think we are more careful, wiser, and that by being this way, we can avoid all the bad in the world. The truth was anything can happen to anyone. No matter if you do everything right.

It's like a car accident. 

People are in car accidents all the time. There is lapsed judgment, a moment of carelessness, and dangerous road conditions that are impossible to see. One day, it will happen to you and there won't be anything you can do to prevent it. Just hold on and wait for it to stop. Hold your breath and don't close your eyes. Then, you're standing on the side of the road, looking at the wreckage, trembling, with only one thought in your head.

How did this happen?

After these things happen, there's regret. 

There is anger. There is second guessing. There is self-loathing. There's fear. You wonder what would have happened if you had just slowed down. If you had known danger lurked there. If you hadn't done what you did in the exact moment that things went spiraling out of control. If, just for a second, you hadn't been there. 

Some part of me always believed that these bad things happen in a different atmosphere. Perhaps even a different dimension because we don't truly believe things can happen right where we are. In our place of comfort. On a familiar road that you drive every day for many many years. 

Things always happen close to home. 

And after? 

How could things even be remotely the same? It didn't matter if I lied to myself and told myself it was fine. It happens. I would recover. Some part of my mind would always know the truth, it would know that the accident had affected me more than I would ever admit. It was evident in my uneven breaths, in the racing of my heart whenever I was near the place it happened. It was in the unconscious tightening of my fists and the clenching of my jaw. 

Because bad things don't ever leave you. 

But, everything happens for a reason, or so they say. I had yet to find a reason for bad police. We had dealt with it in the city, and now we've found ourselves in a situation with it once again. I didn't have anything against the police until they gave me a reason. The world is a filthy game of guilty until proven innocent, and that must mean that no one is innocent. 

No one is safe. 

"What do you mean you could go to prison?" Ezra snapped me from the deafening echo of my thoughts. How long had I zoned out? I blankly looked up but his back was to me. "Why the fuck would you ever risk that, huh?" 

Mikeal stood. His chair screeched back from the force of the movement. "Need I remind you who just walked into my office moments ago, demanding answers? Threatening me for them?" His blue eyes were ice and frost and everything of bitter rage. He placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward until he was practically nose to nose with Ezra. "I tried to protect all of you by keeping it a secret." 

"Secrets get people hurt," Ezra growled every word through clenched teeth. 

"So does the truth."

Roman gripped Ezra by the shoulder and yanked him back. "Alright, that's enough. I'm not about to watch you motherfuckers beat each other to a pulp." Ezra scoffed harshly and spun away, stalking to the corner of the room, and began pacing.

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