Matenapped

Chapter Twenty.

Chapter Twenty

Jem

The cops booked, photographed, and fingerprinted me, then they threw me into a cell.

They weren't exactly gentle.

"Your bail is over $100,000," one of them informed me while locking the cell door. "So you're not gonna be leaving here anytime soon."

I rolled my eyes. I was pretty sure Michel's toilet seat was worth more than that.

Then again, Michel had no clue where I was. I couldn't count on him to rescue me this time.

I sighed and turned around, surveying my cell. It was in holding, and since holding cells were the most crowded I assumed I'd have at least one cellmate.

Sure enough, a girl that looked about the same age as me was sitting on the top bunk, swinging her legs back and forth. She was staring at me suspiciously.

"You're not a wolf," she said slowly, her face screwed up in concentration. "But...you smell like one. Like a strong one, in fact."

I gaped at her. "You're a werewolf?"

She nodded, jumping gracefully off the bed. "Yeah. Weston County Pack. You?"

"Not a wolf," I explained sheepishly. "Just the mate of one."

"Your mate's an Alpha, isn't he?" she asked, her eyes widening. "Jeez, he's going to rip this entire station apart trying to find you."

I winced. "Yeah, he's a bit overprotective. But, um...he doesn't exactly know where I am."

"Makes sense," she said. "Why haven't you talked to him yet?"

I looked down at my naked wrists. They'd taken the cuffs off when fingerprinting me. Without the silver, I should have been able to talk to Michel hours ago.

Key words: should have been able to.

"Um, it's really hard," I muttered, embarrassed. "I'm human so I'm pretty new to this. The only times I've done it, I've either been really emotional, or he started the connection."

She smiled. "Hey, I can show you."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. "Wow. Thanks...."

"Courtney," she supplied.

"Jem," I responded, smiling.

"Cool name," she said. "Short for James?"

"How'd you know?" I asked.

"My mate's name is James," she chuckled.

"It'll be interesting meeting him," I said, smiling.

Her grin faded, her expression suddenly cement-like.

"That might be a little hard," she said, forcing a small, strained smile. "He's dead. He was killed by rogues a year ago."

Shocked was an understatement. I felt horrified, like the breath had been knocked out of me.

"Oh my god," I whispered. "Fuck. I am so sorry, I didn't mean--"

"It's not your fault," she insisted, waving a hand dismissively. "Besides, I'm starting to get over it. I got my closure a few months ago." She grinned wickedly. "I murdered the bastards who killed him."

Holy fuck.

"Is that why you're here?" I asked tentatively.

"Yup," she confirmed. "I left my pack after killing him, and the cops eventually caught up to me. I've been in here for a few weeks now."

"That's...wow." I was at a loss for words.

"So, what about you?" she said, leaning against the bed frame and crossing her arms.

"What about me?" I hedged, trying to avoid the question.

Courtney grinned knowingly. "You know, they pair you up with a cellmate that's committed the same degree of crime as you. Meaning, you killed someone."

Her words felt like a literal slap across the cheek. She was so blunt.

"I..." I was speechless.

She raised an eyebrow. "Even if they have no proof and you're just a major suspect. Is that the case?"

"I don't...I attacked my boyfriend at the time," I began, speaking slowly. My mouth was suddenly very dry.

"He was majorly abusive. I'd already been having a rough day, and I don't why--that night, when he hit me, I just snapped. I broke a beer bottle over his head and started to leave, but he grabbed my ankle. We fought and he ended up tripping over a piece of the broken bottle. He..." I swallowed. The action was painful. "He hit his head on the corner of the table, and a huge glass shard lodged itself into his neck when he landed. There was so much blood...I-I'm sorry, I need to sit--"

"Of course, here, come here." County ushered me onto the bottom bed. She sat beside me, her arms around my shoulders while I took a series of deep breaths and tried to calm down.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"You know, Jem," she said softly, rubbing my back slowly. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It sounds like a complete accident."

"It was," I sighed, covering my face with my hands. "I never once planned on killing him."

"I can tell," Courtney murmured. "No offense, but you don't strike me as the violent type."

I laughed humorlessly. "Ironic, isn't it? Michel's killed dozens of people. I can't even handle one."

She shook her head. "It's completely different. Michel's killed rogues--horrible, vile creatures that don't even count as people. Plus, you have to understand that wolves are natural born predators. As barbaric as it sounds, killing is an instinct for us. You, on the other hand, are 110% human. Killing isn't in your blood. It's against nature, which is why you feel so guilty."

I was quiet for a moment, thinking about her words.

"Killing is an instinct for us..."

"Do you regret killing the rogues?" I blurted out without thinking.

County didn't look offended at my question. "No. Not even a little." At my expression, she smiled humorlessly. "Like I said, we're natural born predators. Those assholes took away my reason for living--so I took away their lives. 50-50." She shrugged.

Normally, this type of indifference in the face of death gave me the chills. Something about Courtney just amazed me, though.

"I wish I was that badass," I sighed. "I just keep seeing Caine's blood all over the carpet."

Courtney smiled. "You what'll make you feel better? I'm gonna help you talk to Michel. Come on, let's start."

***

A/N:

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