Page 6 of The Dark Side

Chapter three

Truth

Jolierestedonherhands and knees, scrubbing the blood off the floor. Though she had been assured someone was coming in the morning, waiting around wasn't an option. The longer the blood sat, the more her anxiety rose.

Jolie wasn't immune to the chaos she had endured. It was slowly sinking in, and no amount of disregard could keep it from surfacing. Jolie came from the suburbs of the country. Which was different from the suburbs of the city. Suburbs in the city were wealthy, with their expensive cars and ten-bedroom houses. The country's suburbs were more upscale trailer parks—not dangerous or ghetto, but still making it paycheck to paycheck. A neighborhood watch patrolled the area, keeping teenagers from causing any damage to their old white picket fences and rusted cars that tended to have no alarms.

When Jolie told her parents she wanted to move into the city, they used every guilt trip they could muster, but Jolie was determined. She wanted to help underprivileged kids; it had been her passion since she was young enough to understand the homeless who lived slightly down the road.

She had been in the city all summer, acclimating to the harsh society, and was only a month into teaching.

Now, the dreaded 'I told you so' was in her future. Did she try to keep this incident from her parents? She doubted that was possible. Even now, her hand itched for the phone to tell her mom everything that had happened. She didn't keep secrets from her parents, even when it got her in trouble.

But maybe this one needed to be left out.

Jolie left her parents' house at twenty-three, trying to find a spark to life, and yet, being in the middle of a shootout wasn't precisely what she was looking for.

Jolie squealed and fell when a knock sounded on her door. She held a hand to her chest, her heart racing in terror. The beginning of PTSD was already set in motion. Jolie looked at the time; it was nearly three in the morning.

"Who is it?" she yelled from her seat.

"Tampa Police."

Her eyes widened, and she stared at the blood-smeared ground. She had barely begun to clean and only managed to smear it into a pink circle.

"Hold on," she replied, glancing around, panicking. Jolie peeled off her gloves as she stood, jumped over the area of blood, and grabbed her blanket off the couch, wrapping it around her. No one else was going to notice her braless attire.

Jolie opened the door just enough for her to slide through and shut it tight behind her. She smiled sheepishly at the two uniformed officers in front of her. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Hi." She scanned the hallway and was surprised there were no streaks of blood along the floor.

"Ma'am." Jolie snapped her eyes up. "Sorry for the late call, but were you in the shootout that took place three hours ago at Salem’s Pharmacy?"

"A shootout? What?"

The two officers glanced at each other out of annoyance. "We have you on their security camera."

Jolie's face heated up. "Oh, yeah, that shootout, yep." She wasn't always a good liar, but not for the lack of trying.

"We also have you talking to two of the assailants."

"No, I don't know them."

"Why did you leave the store with them?"

"They helped me out."

"They helped you? Or you helped them?"

"How could I help them?"

"You mind if we come in?"

Jolie stiffened and quickly made something up. "Normally, I wouldn't, but um—my dishwasher broke, and I haven't had time to clean, so…"

"Ma'am, you understand that harboring a fugitive is against the law?"

"Yes."

One police officer raised a piece of paper. 'If you are in danger, nod.'