Chapter 14
Blake took the call and rushed to the station.
In the interrogation room, looking exhausted as hell, Sergeant Martinez briefed him on the case.
These two are dealing counterfeit meds. According to their statements, they weren’t sexually harassing Stella-they were just collecting a debt.”
The tall guy sat there in handcuffs.
He talked about it like he was pissed off: “Honestly, what a waste of a pretty face. If she’d just found herself a sugar daddy, would she really be too broke to pay
for her meds?”
Blake’s jaw tightened. “Shut the fuck up!”
Sergeant Martinez whispered beside him: “Detectives are picking them up in ten. Whatever you wanna ask, do it now.”
Blake grabbed the phone from Sergeant Martinez.
He scrolled through Stella’s texts with the dealers-screen after screen of her desperately trying to bargain down prices.
The tall guy kept talking: “She needed meds, I sold her meds. What’s the crime in that?”
‘Plus, I was hooking her up with natural pain relief. It’s not like I was trying to kill her.”
3lake lost it. Fuck the cameras-he kicked the asshole’s chair so hard it nearly tipped over.
You know exactly what kind of bullshit you’re peddling!”
These are dying cancer patients! Your fake meds are speeding up their deaths!”
The tall guy actually had the nerve to smirk. “Think they can afford real chemo? At that point, they’re buying false hope. My shit gave them hope-that’s all that
natters.”
Blake slammed the case file down in front of them.
Look at this shit! See how many people are dead because of your fucking fake meds!”
ergeant Martinez dragged Blake outside where he slumped on a bench, hyperventilating.
He kept thinking about Stella-always wearing designer shit that cost more than most people’s rent, totally spoiled rich girl her entire life.
And she died because she couldn’t afford fucking cancer drugs.
He went completely insane scrolling through her social media, obsessed with finding out how badly she’d been suffering those last few years.
Finally found her private Instagram.
Jan 15, 2020: Diagnosed with leukemia. Hereditary.]
Blake’s stomach dropped-that was the day Stella called him twelve times straight.
The academy had been in the middle of this massive bust. They were about to arrest this piece of shit when he threw himself off a roof.
Blake buried his face in his hands, remembering how fucking livid he was when he finally answered her call.
Stella was sobbing, could barely get his name out.
But he was so pissed he couldn’t think straight. Just snapped: “I’m swamped.”
And hung up on her.
How desperate must she have been, sitting alone in that hospital corridor with her diagnosis, trying to figure out how the fuck to deal with this?
His hands were trembling as he kept scrolling.
[When my parents found out about
[The people I’ve been calling Mom and Dad for 22 years aren’t even my real parents.]
His chest felt like it was caving in. He could barely breathe.
He suddenly remembered those handprint bruises on her face at the wedding venue.
He sat there in complete silence.
Even when she was literally dying, all she wanted was for her family to give a shit about her.
So what if she wasn’t their biological daughter? What the hell did she ever do wrong?
