Page 91 of Marc

A loud tap on Marc’s window causes me to let out a yelp.

Marc rolls the window down and lets the officer speak.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?”

I don’t hear Marc’s reply because I immediately remember the officer’s face.

He’s the one that showed up at Jared’s house the night I had to call for an ambulance.

He’s the one that covered up the destruction that Jared caused that night.

And he’s the one that told Jared exactly what words to say to get me to forgive him and not go through with the divorce.

Anger and hatred build up inside of me.

I hate he knew what Jared did and what he was capable of, and all the friend did was cover it up.

I hate he continues to cover up shit for Jared.

And most of all, I hate I allowed myself to feel stuck in a life and marriage I never should have stayed in.

Of course, with my luck, we would be pulled over as soon as we cross county lines by one of Jared’s friends.

The cop’s aggressive tone has me focusing on the situation at hand. I can remember the past another time.

“Would you like to spend the night in jail?”

What the hell did Marc say to get that kind of response?

Marc hands over his paperwork and the police officer heads back to his car.

Marc glances at me and I ask, “What the hell happened?”

Marc’s eyes narrow as he stares at me. “Did you not hear the conversation?”

I could lie and say I did hear it, but I don’t want to lie to Marc. “No, I was too busy having a miniature internal freak out because I know who that is.”

His eyes widen for a second before returning to normal. “Jared’s friend?”

“One of the many.”

“Ah, this all makes sense now. No wonder he was being a dick.”

“Yeah, so please don’t do or say anything stupid. The sooner we can get to the diner, the better.”

I don’t want to be stuck in this town, especially if word gets out that we are filing police reports against Jared in the neighboring county.

Marc gives me a small smile. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

I turn around in my seat to check on the officer. When he gets out of his vehicle, I face forward and sit as still as I can to not draw attention to myself.

The officer hands Marc his paperwork and license back.

“What business do you have in this county?”

Marc takes a deep breath and squeezes his hand into a tight ball. “We are just passing through to get some food.”

“Well, I think it would be best if you stay on your side of the train tracks.”

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