Shattered Poetry (Broken Lives #2) Page 4

  I went to move forward, intent on doing just that, but instead I took a step back, not knowing whether it was true. Even though I couldn’t comprehend Dante killing those people, it didn’t mean he was innocent. After all, he had ample motive. He hated the dead boy, and had gotten into numerous fights with Ronald, one of them ending in both boys getting slapped with a suspension. Could he have taken that fight a step further? His father was in a gang, so it was likely he had access to guns, and again, he hated Ronald.

  But enough to murder him?

  A crash startled me out of my thoughts. My attention shot to the back of the room. Jasper was leaning over Phelia, who was looking just as stunned as I felt. Her desk was now on its side, Jasper obviously the culprit.

  “You will do as you’re fuckin’ told!” he yelled at her.

  She shrank back in fear. Jasper grabbed her arm, jerking the girl out of her seat. Phelia let out a startled cry and tried to pull free. He wrapped an arm around her waist and picked her up as though she weighed nothing. She went crazy, kicking and hitting him.

  I continued to stare, everything stupefying me. It felt like I was watching a TV show, not reality, the sequence of events too outrageous to be real.

  Jasper carried Phelia between the desks, the other students staring at them. Phelia continued to fight him, causing him to swear at her. As he drew closer to me, I finally snapped out of my stunned state and stepped in front of him, blocking him from leaving with Phelia.

  “Put her down!” I shouted, although it came out closer to a shrill yell, fear playing with my vocal chords.

  Jasper shoved Phelia at me, almost knocking the both of us over. “Two disloyal bitches,” he spat, glaring at us.

  I steadied Phelia, but didn’t retract my hand, both comforting the scared girl and using her for support, Jasper scaring me just as much. “I didn’t do anything,” I forced out.

  “Dante didn’t do anything either. He’s innocent! Yet you let those fuckin’ pigs take him away.”

  “I didn’t let them do anything,” I answered. “He was arrested. What did you expect me to do? Go against the police?”

  “I wuz talkin’ to Phelia.” He took a step closer to her, making Phelia back up into Lindy’s desk. “Now the DC will be gunning for Dante.”

  Phelia covered her face and started crying again.

  I pushed her behind me, afraid Jasper would grab her again. “Who’s the DC?”

  “The Devil’s Crew.”

  “The biker club?”

  Jasper nodded. “Happy Meal’s father is their president. If Dante doesn’t have an alibi, Jonah McDonald will go after him. And if that psycho gets his hands on Dante, he’ll...” Jasper squeezed his eyes shut, all anger seeping out of him, fear instead twisting his features.

  “What will he do?” I forced out, fearful of his answer, but needing to know.

  Jasper opened his eyes and looked straight into mine. “He’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

  4

  Dante

  Unlike the cops who’d arrested me, the two on the other side of the table were wearing plain clothes, what my gang called pork-without-rind. And although I didn’t know the male cop, who was busy texting on his phone, I did know his partner. Officer Lyn Miller dealt with underage crims—like me. She usually wore sensible skirts that stopped below her knees and a blouse as plain as her face. She was neither ugly or attractive, if anything, forgettable was a better description. She was the type of person who should work undercover, because no one would remember her. I probably wouldn’t have remembered her either if I hadn’t come across her numerous times. Though, the expression on her face right now wasn’t forgettable, because it was clear as day the bitch thought I was guilty, which was rich, considering I’d only ever been pulled in for stealing and drug dealing. Jumping to the conclusion I was a double murderer was a massive leap, one that pissed me off no end ... not to mention scared me shitless. But there was no way I was going to let them know that.

  “Ronald,” Officer Miller said, mentioning the guy Jasper had killed, not me, “had been bullying you for a number of years now, hadn’t he?”

  Purposely ignoring her question, I leaned back in my chair and looked around the room. It was a square box with walls as bland as the woman in front of me. “I bet you’re a real hoot in bed,” I said, my sarcastic remark and calm exterior not reflecting the panic rising inside of me. I’d warned Jasper that people would blame me for the murders, fucking warned him not to kill Happy Meal, but the bastard never listened to me, doing whatever the fuck he liked, not caring about the consequences.

  Officer Miller slammed her hand down on the table, making me jolt. “Answer the question.”

  I glared at her. “I wouldn’t call it bullying. I’m not a victim.”

  Her lips twitched, probably realising she’d hit a raw nerve. She knew my history, knew that I’d been severely beaten by my stepfather while trying to stop him from raping my oldest brother. I’d also witnessed my stepfather stab my mother to death in front of me.

  My mother was a victim. My brother was one too. But I wasn’t. Because I refused to be one.

  I placed my hands on the table, the cuffs clinking against the hard surface. “Happy Meal and I fought occasionally,” I said, preferring to use Ronald’s nickname. That was what he was known as at school, and I didn’t see the point in changing things now that he was dead and buried.

  “Occasionally isn’t the description your principal used,” Officer Miller replied. “He said you two boys had fought constantly since you started Wera High just over two years ago. He also mentioned that on your first day of school this year, Ronald and his friends beat you up. On another occasion, it was noted that the victim taunted you during a musical audition, which resulted in you viciously attacking him. Principal Sao also mentioned that the victim had held a grudge against you due to you sleeping with his girlfriend, a Phelia Lamar. I’m now wondering whether the fight over this girl made you snap.”

  “I don’t give a shit ’bout Phelia. She makes me soft.” I smiled. “Like you.”

  The other cop slammed a hand down on the table, jolting me as well. “Watch your mouth, you little shit,” he spat.

  “Good cop, bad cop, woohoo,” I said, also giving him a smile. I knew antagonising the pigs was the wrong thing to do, but fuck ’em, I wasn’t going to tremble like some pussy they could walk all over.

  The male cop pushed to his feet. He was much shorter than me, five-foot-eight at a guess, but his hard face added several inches to his presence, the dude obviously a tough motherfucker.

  “Now, you would be more fun in bed,” I said. “Pity for you I don’t swing that way.”

  He slammed his hand down on the table again, not getting a jolt out of me this time. Both cops seemed to like playing patty-cake with the table, the surface taking a beating from them. But by the look on his hard face, he wanted to swap the table for my cheeks.

  He leaned over the table, his cold blue eyes locking onto mine. “You think you’re a right comedian, don’t you?”

  “You’re telling the story, so I must be.”

  “This isn’t a laughing matter! A boy and his mother were murdered in cold blood.”

  “Sheesh, brush your teeth after licking out your boyfriend, cos your breath stinks of shit.”

  The cop tensed, his hands clenching into fists. He leaned closer, placing his face right in front of mine, making me move my head back.

  I lifted my cuffed hands, covering my nose and mouth. “Seriously, dude, it does smell.”

  His eyes flashed at me. “You won’t be cracking wiseass jokes when you’re thrown into prison.”

  “You mean juvie. I’m underage, not to mention innocent, so no prizzie for me.”

  “Is that so? Well, as far as I see it, on the day of the murders you skipped out of your last class and hightailed it over to the victims’ home, first killing the mother. While waiting for the son, you ransacked the house to make it look like a robbery gone wrong
, then, when the son returned from school, you shot him numerous times, then sprinted back in time for detention. Which means, when you get prosecuted, you’ll go to youth prison, then on your eighteenth birthday you’ll be transferred to adult prison, making some big bruiser very happy. How’s that sound, pretty boy?”

  I dropped my hands onto the table. “Pretty boy? Shit, you’re so unoriginal. I just called you an arse licker and I get sumpthin’ a parrot would say. Lame.”

  “Okay, let me ask you if this next piece of information is lame.” He went quiet, not following up on what he’d said, just staring at me.

  “You gonna spit it out or what?”

  He smiled, his cold blue eyes lighting up, looking like he had something on me.

  “What?” I snapped.

  He smiled wider, looking pleased he’d rattled me. “The police officer who questioned you about the time you were attacked in your home said you told him it was a robber who jumped you, yet...” He lifted his phone. “I just found out it was Ronald, the now very dead boy who apparently didn’t bully you.”

  I blinked at him, totally blindsided. I’d pretended I didn’t know who my attacker was so my dad wouldn’t go after Happy Meal, but in the end, Jasper had found out, killing Happy Meal instead.

  The cop moved his chair back and walked around the table, looking even more pleased with my reaction. “You didn’t hide that surprise very well. I could clearly see you’re shocked I found out about your little secret. You’re probably wondering how I know.”

  I didn’t reply, aware he was going to enjoy telling me.

  He stopped next to my chair, placing his mobile phone on the table in front of me. “Go on, have a look. One of my colleagues texted me all the details.”

  Instead of picking up the phone, I lowered my hands to my lap.

  Smirking at me, he swept it back up, looking smugger by the second. “It says that the victim told his best friend about what he did to you in your home. The boy didn’t connect it to Ronald’s death until he mentioned it to his mother, who brought him straight down to the station. They’re here right now. He just told my colleague that his friend threatened you with a gun to make you stop seeing the girl that apparently you have no interest in. Ronald also told his friend that he threatened your loved ones if you didn’t help him win this girl back, then he proceeded to beat you unconscious. Now, that to me is a very good reason for you to want him dead. And I’m guessing his mother was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “I didn’t kill them,” I barked. “And I only lied ’bout who attacked me cos I didn’t want my dad goin’ after Happy Meal in retaliation. It would’ve started a gang war.”

  “So, you decided to keep it a secret, taking Ronald out yourself.”

  “No! I said I didn’t kill him. I’m not a murderer!”

  “But, you still can’t give me an alibi.”

  “I wuz at school! And I’m not sayin’ another word until my dad gets here.” I zipped my mouth, really pissed off with him. And my maths teacher. If that bitch hadn’t creeped me out with her constant staring, I wouldn’t have insulted her, and she wouldn’t have forced me to leave. I’d gone behind the gym, like I normally did when I got kicked out of class. I hadn’t bloody known that was when Jasper had decided to go cap Happy Meal and his mother. None of this was my damn fault, yet everyone was blaming me.

  “This isn’t looking good for you, Dante,” the policeman said. “Though, it’ll be a whole lot easier on everyone if you just confessed.”

  “I ain’t confessing to sumpthin’ I didn’t do!”

  The cop moved behind my chair.

  I spun around in my seat. “I’m underage, you can’t touch me. I should have another adult I know in ’ere. This is illegal what you’re doin’.”

  “It’s perfectly legal. You’ve been arrested for murder.” The cop indicated to the policewoman. “And I’ve brought Officer Miller precisely because you know her—”

  “I don’t trust her; I want my dad!”

  He continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “And I’m the law. I wouldn’t touch an innocent young boy,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He bent his head towards me, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Though, I can’t account for the prisoners you’ll be meeting. They might not think you’re so innocent, Dante. Did you say the victim was in a gang?” he asked, knowing damn well Happy Meal had been.

  I kept my mouth shut, not willing to give in to his intimidation.

  He continued, “I’ve heard you’ve been in the youth correctional facility before. How was that?”

  I remained silent.

  “It was probably fine for you. You seem like a tough kid, but what would you say if you get hauled off to an adult prison?”

  “Are you deaf? I already told you I won’t. I’m fif-teeen.”

  “Not forever. Murder will get you a number of years, even more since it’s a double homicide. You won’t just get a smack on the hand, with a year in youth prison. You’ll get much, much longer, so long that you’ll eventually be transferred to an adult prison.”

  “You love repeating yourself, don’t cha.”

  “Just trying to get through your thick skull, especially since someone who looks like you will find prison a lot harder.” He blew into my ear, making me jerk to the side. He chuckled. “You’re going to be very popular with some of the prisoners, the type that you called me.”

  I sneered at him. “I’m no one’s bitch, bitch.”

  “Maybe. After all, you’re such a tough kid,” he said, his tone again sarcastic. “But will you be so tough when Ronald’s gang comes after you? Don’t you think it’ll be wiser if you owned up to his murder so we can put you into the secure unit, where you won’t be in danger?”

  “I. Didn’t. Kill. Him. What part of that don’t you understand?”

  “The part where you don’t have an alibi, which means—”

  The door opened without warning, cutting him off. A blue-clad cop entered the room, holding the door open for my gang’s lawyer. Xavier Houghton stepped inside with a briefcase and a withering look that could make an adult feel like a scolded child. He was a fifty-something man with a manner as rigid as the silver spoon stuck up his arse and an hourly rate that would make my dad weep. It was just lucky that the gang paid his fees, all fully-fledged Skins and their family covered.

  Houghton’s annoyed gaze landed on the cop standing behind me. “Are you trying to intimidate my client, a fifteen-year-old child?” he asked, his tone dripping with contempt.

  The cop straightened. “I was doing no such thing,” he said, heading back around the table.

  “Other than telling me I wuz gonna be someone’s prison bitch,” I snapped.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “He’s lying.”

  “No, he isn’t,” Officer Miller put her two cents worth in.

  “Lying bitch,” I spat, making her eyes widen.

  She went to say something back, but my lawyer cut her off, “It doesn’t matter, because my client’s leaving.”

  Officer Miller shot to her feet. “He’s the main suspect.”

  “One with an alibi.”

  “Who?”

  “A girl named Phelia Lamar.”

  My eyebrows shot up, knowing she hadn’t been with me.

  “Dante said he didn’t have an alibi,” the male cop cut in.

  My lawyer smoothed a hand over his silk tie, the man too sophisticated to be in a South Auckland interrogation room. “Only because he didn’t want to get the girl into trouble, since they were having sex at the time in a boys’ restroom.”

  I steeled my expression this time, not giving away that it was all a lie. Phelia had left class before me because she’d been feeling unwell ... but ... it was only a few minutes earlier, which meant her alibi would work.

  My lawyer indicated for me to stand up. “Come on, Dante, you’re free to leave.”

  I pushed to my feet and held out my hands, raising a brow at
the male cop, who wasn’t looking so smarmy now. “You gonna unlock me, cupcake?” I asked, adding the last part to rile him even more.

  The man growled something unintelligible as he pulled out the key. He headed for me again, unlocking the cuffs. Once he’d removed them, I backed up towards the door, blowing him a kiss. He scowled at me, making me laugh.

  “Dante,” my lawyer scolded.

  I followed him out of the room. My smile faded as we headed down the corridor, my thoughts shifting to Phelia. Even though she’d gotten me off, the fact she’d lied for me made me nervous as fuck. What did she want in return? Because there was no way she was doing this out of the goodness of her heart.

  My nerves amped up at the sight of her standing in front of the station’s reception desk with Jasper. He had a hand on her shoulder, my mate probably having coerced her into giving me the alibi. I went to call out to Jasper, but stopped at the sound of my name. My gaze shot to my left, spotting my dad standing next to Jasper’s father. He was wearing black combat boots, leather pants, a white T, as well as his black leather jacket, my dad unbelievable. Even Jasper’s father was smart enough not to wear his gang jacket into a police precinct, and Hemi could barely read.

  My dad chewed up the space between us, yanking me into one of his bear hugs. I returned the hug, needing his support, what had happened still leaving me reeling. It was bad enough being pulled in for drugs and stealing, but at least I knew how to deal with those charges, but murder? The way the cops had looked at me made me think I was going down, that there was no way out of the charge without dobbing in Jasper, which I would never do. Jasper was like a brother to me, someone I’d die defending.