Tangled In Strings

Chapter Fifteen

"Is Dixon here?"

"No, he's out on duty... I didn't know you two were in contact–"

"I want to see Tom, Lara," I demand in a sharp tone, cutting her off. She must sense my desperation because she frowns, suddenly tense.

"What's happened?"

"I need to see Tom."

"He's in his office with someone. I can get you someone else?"

"No." I storm away from the desk, heading for the back room. I hear her chair screech.

"Scarlett, wait! You can't go–"

I bend down beneath the counter, and some metal detector begins to beep loudly. A few officers stand at the noise in the busy, crowded room. Some of them I know, some I don't.

"Scarlett?"

I turn the corner hastily, picking up into a sprint when I begin to hear their boots coming after me.

"You can't just go back there! Stop!"

Frantically, I scan the names outside the offices. Tom's is the one at the very end. Through the blinds, his eyes dart from the person he's speaking with to me, shell-shocked.

"You can't just come back here!" One of the officers I've never met takes hold of my arm tightly. I pull it from him, gritting my teeth together.

"Get your hands off me."

The door opens abruptly, and Tom stands in the threshold.

"Scarlett, I'm in the middle of something. I can talk to you in a–"

"Now. You can talk to me right the fuck now," I snarl, entering his office, unable to care that another officer is seated at his desk.

"Rich... give us a second, will you?"

The man rises and quickly leaves the room, following the handsy cop. Tom shuts the door, noticeably cautious when he faces me. I walk up to him with no intention of stopping and shove him back into the door, grunting at how hard it is to push him.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" I screech, slamming my hands into his chest. He grabs them, holding me tight in his grip. "I told you what he did to me! I told you what kind of man he was! You know he's fucked up and you still took him back!"

"He's gotten help. For Christ sake, Scarlett, the guy just saved people's lives! He's doing good!"

"Good? He's not good. He's sick! He broke into my apartment tonight, he made a copy of my key. He–He–" I close my eyes. "He's a fucking monster. You let him back in and he's a fucking monster. You knew it. I told you, the night of the disturbance. I told you he was harassing me again."

"You told me he couldn't get over you. That he was following you again, that he was harassing you and your boyfriend. Martinelli lost it on him."

"Dixon beat me. He beat me. It's why I fucking divorced him!"

"Why didn't you say this then?"

I gape, trying to answer him. There are so many reasons I didn't, all that seem ridiculous now. He lets me go and I raise my hand, rubbing my forehead, frustrated.

"I wanted him to have a good life. I thought it was the alcohol, Tom. I thought–"

"Do you have any evidence? Pictures? A note? Anything?"

I shake my head. "No. No I don't have anything like that." I chew on my lip, trying to think past the throbbing in my skull. Think, Scarlett. Think.