Lost in You

I’m sure they practice repeatedly. Officer Daniels grabs Ryan and pulls him away from me. I scream for Ryan as the other officer steps behind me, wrenching my arms back. He’s holding my arms tight, squeezing them until I lose feeling in my fingertips. He pushes me to the trunk of my car and slams my head down on the hood, kicking my feet out wide. Through my tears I see Ryan in a similar pose, both of us being handcuffed.
    When the officer pulls me up, I see blood coming from Ryan’s mouth. He looks at me, I mouth ‘I love you’ before I’m pushed into the backseat. The door slams and radio is blaring with police code that I don’t understand. The cops meet and compare notes; the one who arrested me is looking back at his car and laughing. He pulls out his phone and types something before putting it back in his pocket. My luck, he just tweeted that he’s arrested me. This is not how our time together is supposed to be.
    The officer gets in and puts his car into gear. He’s talking but I’m not answering. I know enough now to know that I need to keep my mouth shut. I’m in enough trouble. I don’t need my mouth getting me into anymore.
    I close my eyes and lean my head back and allow the tears to escape. There’s no stopping them once they start. I cry for the day I met Ryan and changed his life, because obviously I’ve done nothing but damage him. I cry for what’s going to happen to him and how he’s going to feel when I break his heart. I have to do what’s right for him, even though it’s going to kill me. I can’t offer him anything but drama. If it’s not pictures, it will be an interview question taken out of context. It will be a promotional event where a reporter reads more into a hug. Nothing I say can prepare him for my life. It was stupid of me to think we could be a normal couple, that I could be a normal person. I’m nothing but a cancer to him and I need to leave him alone before I damage him for good.
    Ian was right…

CHAPTER 29
    Ryan
     
     
    What just happened?
    I don’t even know. One minute we’re talking about going to my house and now I’m in the back of a police car, in handcuffs, with a busted lip. I don’t understand how everything turned sour so fast. We weren’t doing anything but talking.
    My dad… since when does he check in on me? I could stay up all night and watch the door and he’d never come in, so why now? My mom wouldn’t tell him I’ve been sneaking out. At least I don’t think she would.
    I can’t believe Officer Daniels touched Hadley like that. When he did, it was like all the anger I’ve been feeling about those pictures came to surface. I wanted to pound his face in, but something told me to hold back. This rage… this anger… it’s nothing I’ve ever felt before, and I hate it.
    My dad is standing outside the police station when we pull up. I’m sure he didn’t expect this, but I don’t care right now. I want him to leave me alone. I wish I had the balls to tell him that I hate my life here and that I want out. That I don’t like the way he treats my mother. I don’t want to work in the mill. That I wish he were more of a dad, the kind that took time to teach me how to throw a baseball or toss a football. That he encouraged me to be more than he was.
    Another officer opens the backdoor and pulls me out by my arm. My dad steps forward and touches my lip. I jerk my head away. Not only do I not want him touching me, but my lip hurts.
    “You’re lucky he found you first, because if I did, you’d have more than a busted lip.”
    I look at the officer holding onto my arm and ask, “Did you hear him?”
    “I didn’t hear a thing,” Officer Daniels replies in his hillbilly voice. Of course he didn’t. “Where is Mr. Ross?” I ask, but am met with silence.
    I’m pushed into the station, taken to a room and thrown into the chair. I almost tip over, causing the officer and my dad to laugh. I don’t get it. I didn’t do anything wrong.
    “Mr. Ross,” I yell, but the door is slammed before my voice can carry out of the room. He’s always been friendly and nice to me, but now, here I am being treated like some common criminal. I need Mr. Ross. I need his help.
    The officer leaves, leaving my dad in the room and no way to defend myself. Great, just what I need. My dad pulls out the chair across from me and sits down. He folds his hands, pressing his index fingers to his mouth. If he thinks I’m going to talk to him, he’s