Chapter Nineteen

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Author's Note

I'm so sorry that this took so long for me two right, was working on the first couple of chapters for my new fan fiction along with all the college homework I have to do, you know how it goes. 

I don't know when  I'm going to post my new fan fic especially because it doesn't have a name yet, I'll keep you updated. 

Sorry guys!!! :(  Forgive me?

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I snatch my phone off of the table and speed dial Phil. 

"Hey Bruno, what's up?" he says casually, the evidence of a yawn hanging in his voice. 

"Go online, on the FOX news channel. Look up the news from 3 days ago." I say with urgency.

"Ok, ok, hold on." I hear commotion in the background. "ok what am I looking for exactly?"

"A kidnapping video, caught on the Bank of America ATM on Cambry ave." 

"I got it." 

"What is thi-" he starts, his breath catching. "it...that...no way; it can't be..."

"Phil, someone has her..." My breath hitches. 

"I'll get the video to her friends. They have to know something about where she's been. If they won't listen to you, I'll make them listen. 

"Thanks Phil." 

"No problem, B. I'll hit you back when I get them."

"Good. Bye."

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My alarm sounds and I climb out of bed. Within 20 minutes I get dressed and eat and head to the down to the parking lot for my car. My phone vibrates in my pocket. 

Phil: At the studio. Mike, Devi and Cristina will be here soon.

Me: Good. 

I slip my phone back in my pocket and drive my car to the studio's back entrance where Phil meets me. We walk to the usual room and Phil fires up the computer, pulling up the FOX news site on livestream. I sit on the couch and watch, Phil hands me a coffee. 

"Thanks." I say, my eye still on the screen. He doesn't reply, instead he joins me. 

"New information has been received on the Bank of America kidnapping. Recent photos have been released on the identity of the young woman who was kidnapped." Suddenly my stage name appears on the screen in large red letters. Various paparazzi shots of me are blown up on the screen, followed by pictures of Iz at book signings and her author's biography. "It seems that the young woman, seen here with superstar Bruno Mars, Is Izziah Tremaine, the edgy sci-fi novelist." My eyes go wide. "Mars' hasn't been seen in public for about 3 months which is how long Ms. Tremaine has been missing. Police say, they are planning to bring Mars in for questioning. That all for now. Back to you Marshall."

"Well shit," Phil says leaning back into the couch, "they didn't take any time figuring that out." 

"Yeah," I say dumbstruck. 

"Well, B, it looks like you are going to have to get everything that you've done since the break up on paper becau-" My phone rings. I grab it from off the table and answer. 

"Hello?"

"Bruno, I'm sending Tyler over right now. We need your statement in writing before they ask for it. You had nothing to do with her disappearance correct?" Adrian asks harshly, his voice becoming harder than usual.

"I'm sure." 

"Good. Don't go admitting things that you had nothing to do with."

"I know Adrian." I reply. He hangs up.

I get my stuff together then push my arms through my coat. "When they get here, show them the video." I glance at him and he nods. I walk out the door and take a short cut to my apartment complex. I hide my face with my fedora, collar and Raybans as I walk in though the back to my apartment. Within minutes Tyler is there in a full suit.  

"Tell me everything that happened." 

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 Tugging at the buttons on my suit jacket, I stand in front of the mirror. I straighten my jacket, straighten my tie and adjust the laces in my shoes. As I brush some lint off my jacket and walk into the kitchen to make a quick cup of coffee. I hear a knock at the door. The coffee brew while I answer. 

"Bruno," Tyler says setting his brief case in the table. He unlocks it and pulls out a stack of papers. "You and I both know you had nothing to do with this, but we have to arrive for questioning early or at the latest on time." he hands my two of the papers he's holding. "Review your written statement, when they ask you question do not stray from what you told me. We need to keep your story as straight as possible so that you cannot be suspected."

"Alright," I glance at the pages rehashing all the things that happened following the night Iz dumped me. Seeing her big brown eyes lined with bright red, her eyes nearly swollen with tears...It's one of the very few times I've seen her cry...I hate seeing her like that. It...it makes me want to fix everything just so that she'll smile... My heart rate speeds up as I close my eyes, putting my hand over my forehead.

"You alright?" 

I take a deep breath and let it out. "Yeah, lets get this over with." 

The driver takes Tyler, Darrien and I to the police station. Tyler walks in front of me with Darrien at my six. The paparazzi shove mics in my face, screaming questions at me; attempting to get some kind of inside story where there is none. 

"Bruno, where is she?" 

"What happened between you and Ms. Tremaine?"

"Did you so something to her?" 

I feel my blood start to boil, anger rising up in me. I glare at that last reporter, causing him to stumble back a few feet. 

"My client will not be answering questions at this time." Tyler says to the women firmly, walking briskly towards the police station. 

The questioning goes well until the investigator ask about what happened the night that Iz and I broke up. 

"So the night that Ms. Tremaine broke up with you, what did you do after she left? 

She left...she left me...

I look down my hands. It's been so long since I've felt her warmth. The question rings in my ears twice more before I notice that Tyler and the investigator are watching me. I have yet to wrap my head around that.

"Mr. Mars, answer the question," I look up, but before I try to speak a knot forms in my throat. Tyler's look hardens, urging me to answer the question. My throat tightens further. 

"My client and I need a moment to speak." he suggests. 

"There's no need. Mr. Mars you be spending the night in jail. The questioning will continue tomorrow morning." 

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