Wanted

•Restrained•

      {•Unedited•}
                        ~Atticus's POV~

        "I started reading the files you gave me when I got home," I tell Sheriff. As soon as I got home I went right for where I left the files and got to reading them. With the way things looked, I can't tell if Bex is safe or not. After what happened at not only the restaurant, but also at the party, that town seems to be fucked up.
    "And you now see why we need someone like him off the streets?" My brows pinch together in confusion. Is he questioning my loyalty? If there's anyone to even blame about my current situation with Bex, it's him. He was the one who pushed me towards her when I wasn't even going to go further than a background check.
    "Did you think I didn't?" I ask. He shrugs, placing his hands on the table. "I know people like him can't be on the streets; it's not safe."
   "It just started to seem like you were getting personal with Miss. Florencio." You have no idea how personal it's became. "I just felt the need to remind you of how serious this is."
     ••••••
                           ~Bex's POV~

          Waiting outside of the police station is probably one of the most pathetic and reckless things I could ever do. Pathetic because Atticus probably doesn't even want to talk to me. Embarrassing because I look stupid. I've been leaning against his truck for the past twenty or so minutes. This wasn't even my idea to come here, it was Alaric's. I was happy with just waiting until we seen each other again, but Alaric said that was immature and forced me here.
     "Hey," a women says, walking out of the building with her bag on her shoulder. She's pretty and has a face that you could remember. "Do you need help with something?"
    "No, I'm fine," I answer, letting my arms hang at my sides. She smiles, continuing to walk a few more steps before stopping again.
    "Are you by any chance waiting for someone?" She asks. To this I stay quiet. The fact that she's still asking me questions is suspicious enough for me. "Atticus?" Again, nothing. "I'm Chelsey."
    "You look like a Chelsey," I say. She looks down, clearing her throat. It may sound mean, but I was only telling the truth. Her blonde hair screams "My name is Chelsey."
   "This is the part where you tell me your name," she says. I just stare at her, crossing my arms. The doors open again and this time Atticus walks out, stoping when he sees the two of us.
    "What are you doing here, Bexley?" He asks, his steps much slower now. Take your sweet time. He doesn't look mad at me, which is good. He also doesn't sound mad, which is kind of disappointing cause that's a turn on.
   "Your Bexley?" The girl, Chelsey, asks. I nod, figuring there's no point in not answering her now since Atticus wanted t screw up what I had going. "This is the girl whose name you said when you were fucking me?"
    "You did what with my name?" He sighs, pressing his lips together. If only he didn't have to work in this uniform; I'd still be thinking straight. "I didn't hear about this situation."
    "It meant nothing," he tells me. She scoffs loudly, her lips parting. "I don't mean it like they, it was nice...for the most part."
    "You're fucked up," she spits at him before stomping away. I watch until she's out of sight, pressing my lips shut to keep from giggling. And I thought I looked pathetic. He releases a deep breath, walking to the truck.
    I get in the passenger seat, getting much more used to lifting myself in. It's not lifted to the point where it's too hard, but it makes it difficult enough due to my height. He closes the door after him, looking over at me.
    "We should talk," I say. He nods, backing out of the parking space. I'm surprised he's being easy about this, this time having no argument against talking things out. Or maybe it's just that I'm learning how to work with him. Instead of being mean, being nice...er will get him to talk.
    "What was that about last night? Not your ex, I got that now, but your dad and that other guy," he asks, paying attention to the road. This is a conversation I would rather have face to face, not side to side in a car, but I'm gonna have to work with him. If talking about this is what he wants to do, that'll have to be the middle ground.
    "You ever imagine yourself dying in your twenties?" I ask. He stops at a red light, looking at me with a "What the fuck" expression. "Have you?"
    "No, I don't think that's something normal everyone does," he answers. I nod, admiring the way his long lashes fan out. Boys have lashes they just don't deserve.   
   "That's what I was stopping from happening. If I explain everything that was said I'm not worth shit to them anymore. Loyalty is key with them. Look at it this way, they would rather me be with a serial killer than you because that's better for them. They'll do what they have to do to protect their asses."
    I hope what I said is enough of answer. I can't give him the details when I'm still stuck in the middle. For all my parents know, I've agreed to stop seeing him. If I tell him, he'll have every reason to arrest my dad and Castel. I no longer have any reason to protect their asses, they could care less about me at this point, yet I'm still trying to protect them.
     "And that's all you can tell me?" He asks. I nod, feeling the lump in my throat grow again. Last night was a night full of tears.
    "I just need to know what this is," I tell him. "For me to know what I seriously want to do. I need to know if you're serious about whatever's going on." He looks over me a quietly, fixing the position of his hands in the wheel.
    "That conversation can wait."
   ••••••