Probation

"Sometimes we are just the collateral damage in someone else's war against themselves"
- Lauren Eden

• Rogue •

I'd stumbled from bar to bar
I wasn't even sure where I was now
I couldn't remember how many drinks I've had
But I felt so... numb. So nice
It felt nice not to feel every thing so deeply and painfully

I couldn't feel my face
Or the bruises blossoming on my ribs
The lights began to turn off around me as I tried to stay steady on my stool

"Come on sweetheart, it's time to go home" the bar tender said, guiding me off the stool
"Who the fuck are you calling sweetheart?" I asked, shoving him away
He sighed

"Look it's closing time, you need to leave, alright?" He said
Leave? Fine.
Fine I'll leave
I can find a drink somewhere else, I can find fun somewhere else

I stumbled out into the street, looking around
I needed something to do to stop me from going home
To an empty house. Alone
I hunched over as sick rose in my throat, throwing up in an alley way

Before noises took my attention
That fucking bartender, walking to his car
"You" I shouted, nearing him
He looked at me, groaning as he tried quicker to get j to his car

"You, fucking sweetheart!" I shouted, throwing my bottle of vodka at his windscreen, smashing it
He immediately swung his door back open
"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked
I didn't listen
I climbed up onto the hood, kicking the wind screen in with every fibre of anger I had

Fuck him
Fuck his car
Fuck everyone
"That's my car you crazy bitch!" He shouted
"Crazy?" I asked
"Fucking crazy am I!" I shouted, slamming my foot down onto his wing mirror

It smashed off, flying across the road
I must have blacked out in anger once again

Because I don't remember much about that night

Except watching the car go up in flames after I set it alight
I stood back, as the man screamed at me and sirens began to sound distantly in my ears
I just watched it fucking burn
Like my life I suppose

I don't know how long I stood there, before the rain started, my hair sticking to my face before I was shoved against a police car
Handcuffs clamped tightly on my wrists

•

I woke up to the smell of sweat and mould
Pushing myself off an extremely uncomfortable mattress, wincing at all the pain surging through my body

My head pounded
My ribs ached
My face burned
I stared at the walls, I was in a cell
Fuck.

I don't know how long I sat there, trying to regain clear vision before the door opened
And I groaned
"Not so fucking loud" I complained
"DI Quincy wants a word. Get up" he said

He seated me in an interview room
Was I even charged? I couldn't remember
When the door did open again, I was met with a pretty young blonde lady

Hair pinned up neatly, glasses sitting on top of her head
A black suit that was definitely expensive
Her skirt stopping just above her knee
She looked nothing like a detective

She looked pretty and prim, clean and put together
She looked like a secretary
She had faint bags, a wedding ring
She was a family woman
She wasn't wasting days away in cases

So who was she?

Her heels clicked along the floor before she sat down, presenting a folder
Before she pulled her glasses down.
"Rogue Audrey Lane, Correct?" She asked expectantly
She was British. Upper class British

"Arrested three years ago for the assault and battery of Carlisle Canterbury, serving a year in a juvenile detention centre" she reeled out
I smiled at her, but it didn't seem to unease her at all

I had no regrets about beating up that piece of shit. I'd do it all over again if I could
"Now, do you know why you are here Miss Lane?" She asked

I rolled my neck, achy and uncomfortable
"Could I get a cigarette?" I asked
She looked at me for a moment, before she pulled an unopened pack from her pocket, handing them to me
I took one, before she held out a lighter

She didn't look like a smoker
Her eyes were clear. Her nails were clean.
So why have cigarettes?

She didn't look like a lawyer, nor did she act like one
Normally it was easy to figure someone out
Normally small details revealed themselves
I leant back, inhaling, studying her

"Miss Lane, do you know why you are here?" She asked again
"I want a lawyer" I said calmly, exhaling
She smiled
"That won't be necessary, this will only take a few minutes" she said

So definitely not a detective
"Nevertheless, I want a lawyer" I said again
"Miss Lane. I am here under strict instruction from your father" she said, uninterested in my reaction
She fucking what?

How did he even know I'd been arrested? Or where to find me?
"Now, you are here under the charges of disorderly conduct, arson and the possession of a firearm-"
"How did he know I was here?" I asked
She shifted in her seat, adjusting her glasses

"Mr Amato has been searching for you since the news of your mothers passing. I do offer my condolences f-" she stopped herself when she looked up
My face had hardened
Like he ever gave a fuck about my mother

"He found out about your arrest, and sent me to sort it out" she said
"And who are you, exactly?" I asked, cocking my head
"I'm merely here to diffuse the situation" she said

An evasive answer
I laughed
"I don't need that heartless bastard to help me" I said
She sighed, taking her glasses off
"Look miss Lane, your father has influence within the police for-"

"You mean he owns the police force. You mean he has thugs and guns and power" I said back
"I mean... he has made a deal, you will avoid prison, under his care in a 2 year probation period, after those 2 years, you are free to do as you please. Break your probation rules and he will put you inside, do you understand?" She asked blankly

"That's his offer?" I asked
"Yes"
"I think I'd rather rot in prison" I said, exhaling smoke
"I think, without his intervention, you will be inside for a lot longer than two years. This is the best way for you" she explained
"You mean his way?" I said

She said nothing. Waiting for my response
I thought about it
It seemed I only had one option
I couldn't go to prison. Not until I find the man who killed my mother
And maybe the old bastard might even have some information of his own I could use

Plus I could always skip out
He wouldn't put me inside. He wouldn't dare
"Fine, let's go see dear old daddy" I said blankly, standing up.

•

I looked at her across the car
Her head in her phone
"So who are you really? DI Quincy?" I asked
"Scarlett... Hamilton" she said, before looking back at her phone
"Your fathers secretary" she clarified
"Secretary" I raised an eyebrow

"Yes, I'm not one of your father's playthings" she said
"No, clearly not" I said, eyeing her wedding ring
"Never stopped him before though" I commented, looking out of the window

We eventually pulled up to a big house
"I wanted to go home" I said
"You will, to collect your things, for now he has had a guest room made up for you, clothes and toiletries will be provided" she said, getting out of the car
"Funny, you're making prison sound better and better" I commented

I had to stay in his house? Under his watchful eye?

"Your room is upstairs" she said as she opened the front door
"Your father is currently busy so you're to stay here until he returns" she said
"Where is he?" I asked
"I'm not at liberty to say, now I really must be going, there's a lot to do at the office, but it was... lovely to meet you" she said politely

I nodded at her, watching her leave

•

I'd seen my room, I'd had a shower, scrubbing all the blood from last night off me

I wandered around the house, 'accidentally' breaking things
Mapping out the rooms in my head
Before I found his office
It was big. And it had such an empty feeling inside
I graced along the books, before a voice spoke up behind me

"Who are you?" A man asked, gun in hand
A guard.
"Rogue, Lucian's daughter" I said
He put his gun down
"Oh, I didn't... we didn't know you were here already, sorry miss" he said

"It's fine, and Lucian is..."
"At the club miss" he said
"Of course, the club" I muttered in agreement, sitting down at his desk
"That will be all" I said, he nodded, hesitant as he left

The club?
I searched his desk, his drawers
Or at least the ones I could open
Before I found a business card

Lane Florum

Fuck sake
Of course he'd give it a shit name
Lane of flowers?
He called my mother flower
What a doting homage to the wife he cheated on.

I got one of his men to take me to the club

It looked... bright
A bright sign hanging above the door
A long line waiting to get in to the bar

Here goes nothing I guess.

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