Prologue

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The detective remained unhitched, resilient and resolute as she slowly chewed the gum that had been drained of its sweetness, grinding the blob to reshuffle into another anomalous shape with the active work of her molars. Her eyes locked in with Martins' like in the movies, where two love struck individuals meet and there are no words being spat out, just stares. Long deep stares except theirs wasn't love.

The air felt stiff. He could literally feel her breath close to his skin, the gentle in and out breaths she took made his skin feel warm and then cool again within seconds. She had left her seat and sat comfortably on her desk, by his side. Allowing just a fraction of her buttocks grace the wood.

"I swear I didn't do it," he said calmly. The clanging of the handcuff rings against each other seemed like the chains the slave traders mounted on their slaves. It sounded ancient and raw as his skin slid across the silver cuffs. His eyes wore a faint shade of pink. He had cried enough as the possibility of ending up in jail ripped his soul apart. Jail seemed factual, like a place that only existed in movies or in documentaries and never like something he would go to. In a few hours, his response could either take him there or take him back to class.

"You didn't rape Mary or drug her?" The detective asked. She tightened her lips together until the extra skin that bulged out, got sealed back in revealing a tiny spread out rash above her jaw. "Do you realize that you could go to jail if you don't say the truth about this?" She asked again in an almost whisper.

He said nothing, but narrowed his eyes towards the black mug cup that held an even blacker shade of coffee. It appeared to be void of sugar or any additive whatsoever.

"I drugged her, but I didn't rape her," he said.

She sank back into her leather chair and stroked her chin with her painted fingers, staring into his eyes and observing his random eye twitching. "Well, are you going to tell me the full story or do I have to ask myself?"

Martins breathed in heavily, his thoughts wandered back into the beginning of the whole story. How he had gotten himself into the whole mess in the first place. Cards of flashbacks relayed in his head and he settled his thoughts on the first time the dare had been mentioned in class.

"It all started with a game of truth or dare," he started.

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