Chapter 42: You're Scaring Me

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A/N: Thank you Morgan ( @sinbabycity ) for the fan cover/computer design! ^^

QOC: How do you say "love" in your language?

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Sam's POV
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Confrontation hasn't ever really been a problem for me before. I mean, I've been on the streets for so long, and I've dealt with social services. I have to advocate for myself if I want Emily to live with me.

There are many instances in which I've had to confront people and situations. So I should be used to it, right? This shouldn't be as
nerve-wracking as it feels.

But it's terrifying.

My heart beats wildly as I stare at the police station with wide eyes and shaking hands. I feel every nerve in my body tingling and quaking in fear.

I should be happy to do this. I should be confident. Because what I am about to do will no doubt keep Mr. Ryhawks locked behind bars forever. I have his confession for murder on recording, files that prove his intentions, and his admission to founding and fostering an illegal fight club. If that doesn't put him away for good, nothing will.

So why am I so frozen in fear? I have no reason to be nervous. I have everything I need to help Kason love freely after I'm gone. I know he'll be happier. More secure. And this will at least ease the pain once I'm gone — even if he doesn't know it's helping him.

Yet here I am, stuck in the car, staring at the station uselessly. The clock is ticking, and I'm being so selfish as to sit here because I'm scared. I have no right to be scared. Why should I be scared? I'm not the one he's targeting (albeit he would be if not for the cancer...or if he found out that I'm helping Fara).

Then move, Sam.

Why can't I do it?

I ponder on this for a moment before realizing it: I don't want my face shown. I don't want the police to know who is turning this evidence in, because somehow Mr. Ryhawks could find out.

I grab the flash drive from the center console and open the car door, cautiously stepping out.

I decide that I'm going to turn in the information anonymously.

I can trust Kason. I can trust Cam, Kyra, and Kassidy. Possibly even Lilianne, but I wouldn't tell her, just to be safe.

So I'll tell them. They can know it was me who turned in the evidence, just in case it's eating them alive. If they really want to know, they can. But no one else. And I need to make sure they won't say a word. I'm sure they'd understand why. Because this isn't some fifteen-year-old secret that you can't tell someone. It's not who-kissed-who at the Halloween dance. This is life or death if it gets out. At least for me.

I head into the police station, flash drive in hand. I'd downloaded the video of Mr. Ryhawks' confessions onto the drive, along with Peter's name and face. It's sad, because he clearly is afraid of him, and probably didn't want to set my house on fire. He probably doesn't want to murder anyone. But he did. He has to suffer the consequences too.

In addition to the confessions, I took clear photos of the files so they could see the reports and photos of the victims, including me. I decided not to hand in the actual files, just in case I missed something. I want to hang onto them, see if there's anything more I can find. As of now, they're hidden in the closet.

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