That Matters

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Lillian's POV

It was almost five o'clock by the time I was done at the police station and they bought my story without so much as a hiccup. I was extremely wary of that fact, the entire thing seemed too good to be true. I was sure it was, and the thought made me sick to my stomach.

Derek had successfully hidden from the cops on the roof when they came to search the barn and the house when I told them what happened. They brought me to the station to take a statement, and I felt like I would be cough up my guts at any moment. There was no soothing my conscience. I was lying to the police. I was a felon.

My dad had a great deal to say by the time I got home and made sure I knew it the second I was back on the property.

"Why on earth are you riding around in a cop car?" was his first question when I stepped inside. "Does this have to do with Derek?"

I sighed, kicking off my shoes at the door. "It sure does. Is Rosie home?"

"No, she's out with friends," Dad replied. "Now will you tell me what this is about?"

I gritted my teeth. "Just wait a minute, Dad," I said, standing at the kitchen table, the heat of the argument I knew was coming already seeping into the air. "As I'm sure you've heard, Derek is wanted for murder, but I told you, we broke up. The cops just wanted to know if I knew anything. I called them earlier today to tell them that Derek came by last night and told me he was headed to Brooklyn, and that he called me once he was there. I told the police that I wasn't involved and that Derek is long gone, as far as I know. He's definitely not here."

"Running makes him look guilty," my dad huffed, rubbing his chin. "Do you think he did it?"

I considered for the briefest moment telling him the truth; wondered what he would do with the information. If he would take my side or not. Unless he wanted me in jail, he might not have a choice. But maybe it was better to leave him out of it. If I got him involved everything in his life would be on the line. His job, his reputation, everything. He would have to choose between turning his daughter in or compromising everything he stood for. I couldn't ask him to do that. In no universe was any of that fair.

I nearly sobbed out loud from frustration and sorrow that I couldn't just be honest. I couldn't stand lying to my dad.

"He didn't do it," I said softly. That detail I would not twist. If we had any chance of getting out of this mess, I had to maintain Derek's character in Dad's eyes. That mattered to me.

My dad narrowed his eyes. "How can you be sure?"

"I was with him last night."

"If he's not guilty, why would he run?" Dad snapped back, flabbergasted, as any regular person should be, knowing real life is not the movies where running from the cops works out in favour of the perpetrator. He was right, but there was barely any evidence that Derek was with me last night. The only proof was in the bloody clothes and whatever blood was left in my truck. That was a whole other issue. I couldn't expose the fact that he was a werewolf. Hiding was the best option knowing the entire story, one my dad would probably never know.

"He's been arrested before and I don't think he has any faith in the justice system, and to be frank, neither do I!" I hissed, meeting my father's gaze.

"You encouraged him to run?"

"No!" My voice rose to a shout. "Dammit, Dad!" My fist collided with the table and his eyes widened further. "He didn't do it. You have to trust me on this. Derek never laid a hand on that janitor. But he's gone now. I already told the police. He made his choice to run, it wasn't my idea."

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