Chapter 17

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Hey guys! Yes, it has been a good while since I've last updated. I'm in nursing school and life is super busy. I hope y'alls enjoy this chapter. No promises on when I'll update next.

Chantelle's POV

It's been a day since Lucas shot Darrell and all I feel is numb. Numbness and disbelief. He still hasn't called me and the things they are saying on the news are making me doubt everything I know about Lucas.

"And now back to this week's top news." I look up from my tear-stained pillow and glance at my T.V. A mug shot of Lucas flashes across the screen and my tears trickle down my face. "28-year old Lucas Stevenson, a deputy from the Bellevue Police Department, is currently awaiting a preliminary trial after shooting unarmed teenager, Darrell Williams." The screen goes to the Shell gas station where Darrell was shot and I bring my blanket up to my chest. This news isn't helping.

"Witnesses say Williams was looking to attack Stevenson and Stevenson shot him in self-defense."

I sigh a little. At least he wasn't in the wrong. I don't think... I take out my phone to see that I missed a call from Lucas' mom. I immediately call her back.

"Hi Ms. Stevenson," I say into the phone.

"Chantelle, sweetheart. How are you doing with all this news?"

"I don't know," I say. "I honestly don't even know what to think. I want to hear from Lucas before I jump to any conclusions. He hasn't called me though and I'm worried sick."

"He's okay," she says.

"You've talked to him?" I ask. He's called his mother but he hasn't called me. I know that I shouldn't feel hurt but I do.

"Yeah. I told him to call you. And he will. But when he's ready. He himself is trying to make sense of everything."

"So what's next?" I ask.

"Well, he's in a safe house right now. Just to keep him out of the public eye. He has a preliminary hearing on Monday. The judge will decide whether or not he was acting within his right. If it all goes smoothly, he should be home Monday night."

"Okay," I say. "But what's the worst case scenario?"

"Worst case is that the judge says he wasn't within his right. Or the family continues to press charges even after the judge pardons him. Then he would go to jail and stay there as the trial plays out." She pauses. "I really hope they drop the charges after the judge pardons him."

I sigh. As much as I would like that too, I also believe that justice needs to be serve. If Darrell died wrongfully, he deserves justice.

"Yeah," I say. "I hope so too. Um... do you know how I can contact Lucas? I really need to speak to him."

"Mm.. yeah. I do sweetheart. But he said he was going to come to you when he was ready. I know this is a lot..." she starts crying. "But wait for him.. please. He loves you. And I love you. We all love you and I know how hard this is. But please give him time. When this all blows over, I want you to be happy. I want you two to be happy together."

Before I know it, I'm crying too. "I will wait. I just... I need to hear from him."

"You will. I promise."

We say goodbye and I bury myself in my pillows. When this is all said and done, there's no way that Lucas can stick around in Seattle. The media coverage is too much and his name is a household name. If I wanted to be with him we'd have to move aw—

My phone rings and a number I don't know comes across the screen. I feel my heart speed up and I'm really hoping that it's Lucas.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Is this Miss Chantelle Bernard?"

"Um, yes," I say.

"Hi Ms. Bernard. My name is Lisa Stakes and I am a reporter from the Seattle Times. I'd like to ask you some questions about your boyfriend, Lucas Stevenson. Do you have a moment to answer some questions?"

I grab a tissue from my nightstand and dab my nose. "I guess. Sure."

"Okay. You're African-American and Deputy Stevenson is Caucasian. Did the fact that you were both of different races ever pose a problem in your relationship?"

"What? No. Lucas and I get along just fine."

"So Lucas never demonstrated any racist tendencies?"

"Racist tendencies?" I repeat. Right away I know that this reporter is not trying to get an unbiased story. "I don't know what the hell you're trying to get out of me but you're not going to get it. If you ever call my phone again, I will report you to the police for harassment." On that, I hang up the phone and slam it into my nightstand.

I didn't sign up for this.

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