Interim - Ep 3. Forced [Complete]

[z-Avalon Wilson]

Spoiler

This is the music she’s listening to during the first part of her scene.

https://youtu.be/wFzpNV4Xdec

Lona sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed as a banal “meditation for positive energy” video played on her phone. It was just enough noise to keep her from trying to compose something better in her head, while not being compelling enough to distract her. You can’t be emotionally distraught every goddamned time you need to Farsee, she told herself sternly. You have to learn to do this your--

The intercom buzzed sharply, and Lona groaned, her concentration shattered. Not that she’d made any progress today. It seemed unless she was willing to push -- and frankly after last night, she wasn’t willing to push that hard -- she didn’t have enough juice to actually do anything. Not without Clara there to hold my hand.

Speaking of Clara not being there, the intercom buzzed again and she rolled to her feet, trying to get to it before someone (probably her mom) made it make that awful noise again. “Yeah?” she said, after slapping the button. “What?”

“Lona, please come to the house,” Gerault said.

Had it been her mom, Lona would have pressed for a reason, but she liked Clara’s dad so she just agreed and headed toward the main house. As always, she stared at the pool as she skirted it. When she’d first moved into the house, the pool had been the most obvious sign of the Wrights’ wealth. Now she realized that the most obvious sign was that they never worried about how to pay for anything, ever. 

She stepped into the kitchen and froze at the sight of Sheriff Allister sitting at the kitchen table, a hot coffee mug in front of him. She froze, knowing why he was here, her alarm clear on her face. Adele sat next to him, looking concerned. Lisa and Gerault hovered behind the counter, pretending to enjoy their coffees instead of paying attention to the room. 

“Good morning, Lona,” Sheriff Allister said gently. His eyes, so much like Cade’s, matched his tone as he added, “Do you have a moment to talk?”

She swallowed and said, “Uh, sure?”

“You’re not in trouble, Lona,” Allister told her in his most soothing tone. “We had an anonymous tip that Liam Day attacked a girl matching your description yesterday night. I am following up on that tip.” He paused then asked the question he’d already seen answered in her expression. “Would you like to make a report today?”

“Lona, oh, Lona!” Adele whispered, moving around the table to grab her daughter. “Oh, baby, did someone hurt you?”

“Mom, stop it,” Lona said, trying to step away but finding that her mother suddenly had the strength of three men. 

“Oh, my sweet baby!” Adele moaned, hugging her close. “Oh, sweetheart!” Her mother’s tears fell on her shoulder and Lona looked desperately at Gerault for help. Adele pulled her attention back to her by cupping Lona’s cheeks and asking, “Did that happen? Did that boy hurt you?”

“It’s fine, I stopped him, it’s fine,” Lona said, patting her mom on the arm. “Calm down please--”

Adele wailed and Lona flinched at the sound, her eyes squeezing shut. For a second, she was twelve and waking up in the hospital to hear her mother screaming that her father was dying. “Mom,” she whispered, only to have Adele fall against her, struggling to breathe. “Mom!” she yelped, grabbing her and trying to keep her from hitting the floor.

Suddenly Gerault was there, pulling Adele off of Lona. Lisa said softly from a step away, “She’s having a panic attack. I’ll get her to the couch.” You stay here, was clearly implied and Gerault nodded.

Allister relaxed as Adele was removed from the room. “I can’t talk to Lona without a parent present.”

“Allister,” Gerault said a touch tiredly, “she’s in no condition to supervise.” Even without the panic attack. The Wrights had long ago perfected the art of communicating through implication. “I live with Lona and will have her best interests in mind. Please, let’s not have to do this twice.”

“I can work with that,” the sheriff said, turning his full attention to Lona. “First, I’m very glad that you were able to defend yourself, and that it wasn’t worse. Second, I need to ask if you are interested in pressing charges.”

“No,” Lona said, curling her arms around herself in a tight hug. “I know what’ll happen: nothing.

“That is certainly what will happen if you do not,” Gerault reproved her gently. 

“Lona, I understand your feelings.” Allister leaned forward a touch. “I know that it’s hard to do this, especially with the circumstances. But I want to remind you, if he’s not charged, and thinks he gets away with it, then he may think he can do this again.”

Lona glanced down at the polished table, unable to look at either of the two men. Gerault stepped over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever you decide, we will respect. You are strong,” he said, his eyes flicking over towards the living room then back to her. “And you will not be alone. Either way.”

She knew they were right, and she knew that if he came after Cora, or Cass, or one of her friends -- or even someone Lona didn’t like, then she’d feel guilty about it forever. “I went running last night,” she started, and Allister nodded as he started to take his notes. “I think I saw his car when I passed over Oilfield Ave, but the path we run goes behind the school. I was--” 

Lisa stepped back into the room. “Gerault, I can’t get Adele to calm down. I’m taking her to the hospital.”

He nodded. “Lona and I will check in with you once we are done here, then.”

After the door shut behind the two women, Lona continued her story. She only edited out why her kick had hurt him so badly, allowing the sheriff to think that panic and adrenaline had clouded her perceptions and she’d actually kicked him in a vital spot. Lona even confessed to threatening Liam, saying, “I just wanted to scare him enough to go away. I wouldn’t-- I couldn’t hurt someone. Not even when they’d hurt me first. Am I in trouble for doing that? For threatening him?” 

He sighed. Legally, she could be, but he doubted anyone would actually press the matter. “I think that can safely be filed under ‘emotional duress,’ Lona. But I do need to ask - do you know someone that would hurt him?”

“Anyone who knows him?” Lona suggested. She was not putting a friend’s name on the table.

Allister sighed again, but with a small lift of his shoulders that said ‘you’re not wrong.’ Gerault stepped into the breach, his eyes thoughtful and a little worried. “Is that all, Sheriff? I think it has been a trying time for Lona, so if you have no more questions for her report?”

“I’ll need Adele to come down to the station and file charges on her behalf.” Allister paused and said meaningfully to the other adult, “If Lona had a guardian, a legal guardian aside from a parent, then they could do it, too.”

“We shall consider the matter. It is, perhaps, a good suggestion for now.” The older Canadian nodded thoughtful - the suggestion had good merit, most especially if Adele was going to break down every time something challenging happened around her. 

“I’ll see when Adele can manage to do that, Sheriff,” Lona added, hating the thought. While she knew the Wrights well enough to know that they would probably look into that guardianship-thing, filing charges probably couldn’t wait that long. “I’m sorry I didn’t come in last night, I was just so… shaken.”

“I understand. Again, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said to her honestly. “While I’m here, can I have your shoes and clothing for evidence?”

“Yeah,” Lona said, wilting a little at the idea of her stuff being evidence. “He didn’t, uh, do it though, so I’m not sure that’d help.”

“If we find one of his hairs on your clothing, it helps,” he told her. 

“I should have come in when I still had blood on my thumb, I guess,” Lona sighed.

Sheriff Allister sat up, like a dog catching an intriguing scent in the wind. “Did you scratch him?”

“I think so.”

“Then I’d like to request that you come in right now and allow us to see if we can gather evidence from under your nails,” the big man said. “Gerault, would that be possible, right now?”

Gerault gave a small nod, glancing at Lona to see if she was up to it. “I will follow your lead, dear. As I said, you will not be alone in whatever you choose.”

“Then let’s get it over with,” Lona sighed, rising. “I’m gonna get my clothing, and then we need to go to the station?” At the sheriff’s nod, she went to get her things. Hell of a way to spend Saturday morning, she thought to herself, hoping Clara’s was better.