'𝒕𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒋𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒚 ₊ ˚ ☆ . ʳᵉᵛᵉʳⁱᵉ & ᵏᵒᵘʳᵃ ❪ ⁿ ˢ ᶠ ʷ ❫

[reverie.]

ᴀ  ꜱ ᴇ ᴀ ꜱ ᴏ ɴ ᴀ ʟ  ʀ ᴏ ʟ ᴇ ᴘ ʟ ᴀ ʏ  ʙ ʏ  ʀ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ʀ ɪ ᴇ .  ᴀ ɴ ᴅ  ᴋ ᴏ ᴜ ʀ ᴀ   ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Christmas time was always busy for restaurants, and with one of their waitresses sick with the flu, Bethany covered a lot of extra hours. Tonight was no different. Or, the only thing different was that she'd missed the right bus and had to take the one that stopped a few blocks from her apartment. Which normally wouldn't bother her as much, but as she got off the bus she realized how full her bladder was. She hurried down the street, cursing herself for not using the bathroom at work before she left, but then again, she'd been so sure she would make the bus. Going back had not been an option. So, Bethany had waited a couple of minutes for the next—wrong—bus, which not only stopped further from her apartment but also took a detour. She didn't realize how much she needed to pee before she'd gotten up from her seat. Damn Lucy for making her that hot chocolate. So close. She was so close to her apartment, and so lost in her own thoughts and discomfort that she barely missed the police officer standing in front of her door. And not just any officer, but Mark Whitaker—her ex's father. Holding back a groan, she forced a smile to her lips. It was Christmas, after all. "Mark," she greeted him, closing the distance between them. She had to concentrate on walking so he wouldn't notice how uncomfortable her bladder was making her. "What are you doing here? Everything all right with Nathan?" It had been months since she and his son broke up, even longer since she'd seen him. Yet there he was, outside her fucking door—blocking it, really. He'd better not have a lot to say, because her bladder was about to burst. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ "Bethany." Mark bobbed his head to greet the young woman, his dark eyes focusing on her as he frowned. "Oh, Nathan is fine. He found a new girl."He could recall thinking Nathan and Bethany would marry one day. The gorgeous brunette had been a common sight at the dining table, her laughter filling the room. Nathan had genuinely seemed to love Bethany, his eyes lighting up whenever she turned to look at her. Fate had had other plans for the two of them. Nathan and Bethany had broken up just before the fourth of July. That all felt like a lifetime ago. He was no longer the same man she had once known. Laura had died just after Halloween, the past weeks jumbled in Mark's head. Brain cancer. He could still remember the gut-wrenching despair when he had first heard the words over the phone. They had made a list of things to do together while she was still alive, trying to cling to any resemblance of hope they could muster. A few days later, a massive stroke had left his wife bed-bound, undoing all of their plans. Mark had taken PTO, sitting by his wife's side, simply holding her hand even when she was no longer truly there. Death had come for Laura soon two weeks later. "Unfortunately, I am here for work, Mark murmured, his voice soft. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his badge, flicking it so that Bethany could see it. Not that she didn't know that he was a cop. "You know Anthony Hendrix, don't you?" he asked, tucking his badge back into his pocket, his voice tense. "He seems to know you at least. Would you mind if we had a little talk?" He looked at the young woman as if she was in trouble, stepping to the side as if to allow her to open the door to her apartment. ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Bethany looked puzzled for a moment. If he wasn't here because of Nathan, why was he there? She crossed one leg over the other, pressing them together as she waited for him to continue. Her bladder had suddenly gotten worse now that she had come to a halt. It didn't surprise that Nathan had found a new girl—he was already seeing one before they broke up. Bethany just hadn't told anyone, and Nathan sure as hell hadn't even though she doubted it was a secret. They had been together for quite some time, but in the end, he hadn't been ready to settle down. He'd also told her she was too boring, but that wasn't true. She'd just had enough of his bullshit. A lot of people had been surprised when they broke up, perhaps Nathan's family the most. She'd spent quite a lot of time with them during the three and a half years they were together. Now, it felt like a lifetime ago. He was there for work? She couldn't come up with a single reason why she could be of any help to him or any ongoing investigation—until Anthony's name slipped past his lips. Her face paled. "I know who he is, yes." She didn't tell him that they'd been on a few dates and that they had fucked last weekend—and the weekend before that. "As long as it doesn't take long," she said, pressing yet another smile to her lips. Bethany wasn't particularly interested in discussing her new potential boyfriend with him, but she also didn't want to tell him that she couldn't answer a couple of questions because she had to pee. Of course, there was no crime to pee, but a grown woman shouldn't need to excuse herself because her bladder was about to burst. At least not in their own apartment. She fiddled with her keys, unlocking the door without moving her legs—stretching slightly to reach the lock. "After you," she said, motioning for him to step inside. Her apartment was small; nothing like the apartment she'd shared with Nathan all those years. She followed him inside, taking tiny steps before removing her shoes and jacket. "Am I in some kind of trouble?" she asked nervously. Even if he said no, she'd be soon if she didn't find a toilet within the next five minutes. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Seeing the young woman turn pale, the gruff officer licked his lips, certain that he had her. "I don't know what he has told you," Mark said as he stepped into Bethany's apartment, the tall man stopping for a moment so that she could turn on the lights. "But." Rolling his neck, he turned to face Bethany again, his expression sober. "Anthony has got history with us." He offered her a sardonic smile, his eyes gleaming ominously. There was no mistaking what he had meant with his words. It was no coincidence Mark had not answered her question. He well knew his little visit might take a while. "He might be in trouble. I can't tell you more." The tall man huffed, figuring she'd understand. "But he's why I am here." There was a short pause, Mark frowning softly. He couldn't quite tell her everything he knew. Chances were Bethany would have reacted very differently had she known that the police had arrested her boyfriend two hours ago. Not that Mark could be certain of the relationship the two had. Anthony had testified that she had been helping him to move the goods around and judging from what he had seen on Anthony's phone, the two were close. Knowing that Bethany had allowed him to lay his hands on her had left Mark fuming. "I don't know if you are in trouble, Bee." He used the nickname Laura had given to her, smirking. "That's what I am trying to find out." Sighing, Mark glanced at the ceiling. "I never thought that a sweet girl like you would end up with someone like him." Shaking his head, he looked at the young woman, his expression inscrutable. "I need you to be honest with me, Bee." Mark exhaled softly, letting his words sink in. He wanted to be sure he had her full attention. "Has he been here?" Mark's dark eyes focused on hers, the callous man wondering if she had slept with Anthony. The thought left a taste of bile in his mouth. She ought to have known better. "Stayed over? Been here without you being at home?" He was hoping she would cooperate. He was hoping she'd be a good girl and play nice. "Tell me," he commanded her, his voice calm. ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ What did he mean, I don't know what he's told you? What exactly was Tony supposed to tell her? She turned on the lights to her living room as she passed him, stopping shortly after she'd made it to the living room. The next time she moved, it would be towards the bathroom. "What do you mean, history?" she asked him, this time she sounded worried. It was obvious that Mark was hiding something, but could she blame him? He was a police officer, after all. "What aren't you telling me?" There had to be more to the story, and although she wanted to know what it was, she also wanted to finish this conversation as quickly as possible. Bethany wanted him out of her apartment before she rushed to the bathroom. If Tony might be in trouble. . . did that mean she was in trouble too? But why? She tried to study his face for answers, but she'd always had difficulty reading the man. And when he used her old nickname, her expression softened. "Mark," she said sharply. "What do you mean, someone like him?" Bethany looked slightly annoyed at this point, but to be frank, it was more because of the pain in her lower abdomen than his presence. However, what he was saying, or rather not saying, certainly didn't help her mood. "Can you please just cut to the chase?" Once again she pressed her legs together—squeezing them, really. She prayed he wouldn't pay attention to it. For all he knew, she could be bored. Bethany should have known which questions he was going to ask, but still, he caught her off guard. "Has he been here?" she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. She wanted to tell him that it was none of his fucking business, but if this was an ongoing investigation of some kind, she didn't want to be a hindrance. She took a deep breath, preparing for his judgment. "Yes," she eventually said. "He has been here." There was no need to give him a number. Bethany couldn't quite understand why any of this was relevant. Did it truly matter who had been in her apartment, or was he simply just curious about who she was screwing these days? "He—uhm—has stayed over a couple of times, yes. Has locked himself out after I've gone to work. Why?" She narrowed her gaze at him. "You know, you're not exactly in any position to tell me who I can and cannot fuck, Mark. Not anymore." Her tone was cold with a hint of regret. She'd always liked him. He'd always been supportive and helpful, even after the breakup he'd make sure she was okay. He'd always been attractive, but now that she wasn't with Nathan, she couldn't help but notice how handsome he truly was. And now that she realized what she'd just insinuated, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. If he hadn't already guessed that she was fucking Anthony, he would now. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ "He's got a hell of a rap sheet for a man of his age," Mark scoffed, his distaste audible. He had never hesitated to make his opinions regarding the criminal masses known. "I guess he forgot to mention that. Just slipped his mind. Happens." He ridiculed the young woman, curious to see how she'd react. Bethany was hardly the first girl Anthony had managed to charm. The scumbag was handsome, he had to admit. Suave too, if he wanted to. "He's served time too." While Anthony wasn't strictly a gangster, he was relatively well-connected and his short stint behind bars had only made things worse. He had friends among the gangs that controlled the local drug trade. "Did he tell you he had made money with investments?" That was the story the crook had told them when they had asked him about the money they had found in his apartment. The sleazy fuck-face was a pathological liar. Mark couldn't wait to send him back to prison. "I am the one asking the questions, Bee." He cut her off, never raising his voice. "Work, remember?" Mark exhaled softly. He had expected the young woman to behave. Now she was getting on his nerves. "This is easy as you make it. You answer me or I'll drag your ass to the station." He paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow as if to see the young woman if she wanted to question him. "And I will if I have to. Are we clear?" His tone allowed no arguments. Mark expected Bethany to talk. "You can fuck the entire Cubs roster all I care," he grunted, naming the local football team. Mark was getting more and more annoyed with the young woman, some of his frustration creeping into his voice. "It's when you start sucking drug dealer cock I start to care." Exhaling softly, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a carefully folded paper. "Now, take a look at this, Bee." Mark unfolded the watermarked paper and handed it to Bethany, offering her a wry smile. "It's a warrant. For your apartment." Going through the document, Bethany could see that a federal judge had permitted the police to search her apartment. It seemed that the judge had agreed that there was reasonable reason to suspect that she was involved with drugs. That some might be found in her apartment. "So you sit tight. Now." Mark pointed at a chair that stood by her computer desk. "And let me look around." Glancing at the small woman, he tilted his head to the side, wondering if she would dare to protest. "You have nothing to hide, do you?" ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Bethany tried to conceal her shock, but she wasn't entirely sure she succeeded. What he was telling her was breaking news to her and to think that she'd let a criminal into her apartment—into her bed. She'd even let him fuck her ass once. "He told me that," she lied, forcing the words out. "He told me that it was all in the past." It was all lies. Anthony Hendrix hadn't told her shit. Or, what he'd told her was exactly what Mark suggested he had, that he'd made his money through investments. She hadn't even considered asking for details or questioning him about it. Why would she? They weren't that serious—not yet. But hearing Mark's words made her inside crawl a little bit. Who exactly had she let into her life? "Then ask your goddamn questions," she snarled. Perhaps she would have been more compliant if her bladder wasn't giving her such a hard time. But she really needed him to leave, so the faster he'd go through his questions the better. When he reached into his pocket, a part of her half expected him to pull a gun on her—what he waved in her face was so much worse. She clenched her jaw, squeezing her legs harder as if her bladder had a mind of its own and had just been informed that it wouldn't make it to the toilet anytime soon. Grabbing the piece of paper, she looked at the warrant in disbelief. "You can't be serious," she muttered, the color draining from her face once more. She glared at him, her eyes never leaving his face even when he pointed in the direction of her desk. The last thing she wanted was to move—especially in that direction. If she sat down, she wouldn't be able to get back up without peeing herself and that wasn't going to happen while he was there. Bethany inhaled sharply, obviously offended by his words. "Of course not," she hissed. The only thing—or things—she had to hide was a few questionable items in the back of her bedroom drawer, but she doubted he would find those. The brunette gave him a cold glare and a sarcastic smile, "Please, make yourself at home, Officer." But instead of sitting down like he'd ordered her to, Bethany moved to the right. If he was going to stick around, she had to empty her bladder. She just wasn't going to announce it. However, she could barely hide her discomfort anymore and her short footsteps and the hint of fear—or perhaps it was embarrassment—in her eyes might be a dead giveaway that something was going on. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ "He lied." Mark scoffed, indignant. The sleazy little bastard could be surprisingly persuasive when it suited him. Spotting Bethany's number on Anthony's phone had been a shock. He'd thought she had more sense than to get tangled up with a guy like that. "Fucker can't help himself. Thinks he's too smart to get caught," he muttered, amusement tinging his otherwise soft voice. In the end, Anthony was no different from the rest of the crooks—convinced their schemes would never unravel. "And yet, here we are. Again." He chuckled dryly, memories of Anthony's past escapades flashing through his mind. Last time, they'd tracked him to three separate apartments. Somehow, the conniving bastard had been juggling three girlfriends, none of whom had a clue about the others. Mark had taken great satisfaction in bringing all three of them to court. "Watch your tone, Bee." Fury flickered in Mark's sharp eyes as he stepped closer to the young woman. The old cop's patience was running out. She'd let a drug dealer into her bed, and that fact alone left him fuming. Fixing her with a penetrating gaze, he leaned in. "I really hope you're telling the truth, Bee," he said, his voice soft. "For your sake." "Dead. Serious." Huffing, Mark snatched the warrant back, folding it with careless precision before stuffing it into his pocket. "You know they don't hand these out just because we ask nicely." That wasn't entirely true. Mark had connections, and the judge who signed the warrant was a personal ally. Still, Bethany didn't need to know that. He'd pushed the warrant through mostly to spite her—he'd never quite forgiven the way she'd left Nathan. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Mark snarled when Bethany tried to slink away from him. "Did I not tell you to sit the fuck down, Bee?" He closed the distance, the tall man standing close enough for her to smell his aftershave. In one swift motion, Mark seized her wrists, steering her backward toward the chair. Step by step, his grip firm, he forced her down. "Sit," he growled, his voice brimming with cold authority. He held her gaze as if daring her to defy him. "I can't have you interfering with the search. So, you're going to sit there like the good little girl you are, or I'll get my handcuffs and you can wait on the floor until I'm done." Figuring that the young woman would not have the tenacity to fight him, Mark let go of her wrists, taking a step back. His dark eyes remained intent on her, his expression grim. "Now," he said, his tone sharp and clipped. "Are you going to behave and let me search your apartment without trying any clever bullshit?" ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Bethany couldn't quite understand why Mark looked so angry. She could understand his frustration to some degree, she was his son's ex, after all. But did it matter that she'd fucked someone else? Or was it simply the fact that she'd managed to fuck a criminal of some kind. Because she'd admit that she was starting to regret her decision to spread her legs for him. It wasn't like they were exclusive or even serious yet, but he'd spent a fair amount of hours in her home—eaten her food, slept in her bed, used her shower. "You watch it," she muttered under her breath. Bethany knew better than to start an argument with a police officer, but truly, it was Mark she didn't want to argue with. And the sooner he got a chance to look around—and realize she had nothing to hide—the sooner he'd leave her fucking apartment. But she hadn't expected him to stop her from going to the bathroom. He had given her clear instructions to sit her ass down—which she had every intention of doing, but after she'd emptied her bladder—and she'd done the opposite. She should have expected some kind of objection. Just not this. Mark grabbed her by the wrists before she had a chance to react, forcing her backward until her ass hit the chair. Thank God she was wearing dark jeans or he'd probably see the dark stain between her legs. She'd tried to stop it from leaking out, but he'd forced her legs to move too fast. Sitting down did not really help her case, but she pressed her legs together nonetheless. Trying her best to keep a straight face, she let him finish talking before she opened her own mouth. She knew he wasn't kidding when he threatened to handcuff her—if he did that, she'd definitely be in trouble. She held his gaze, her eyes gleaming with desperation and discomfort. "I'm sorry, okay? I won't interfere, I promise, but I really need to pee first." There, she'd said it. The cat was out of the bag. There was no taking it back now. No hiding it. Not that she'd be able to hide it for much longer anyway, because she had started leaking. If he didn't see the stain, he'd eventually see a puddle on the floor or smell it. "I'll be quick," she added, squirming slightly in the chair. "I'll come right back here. No clever bullshit, I swear. Just please, let me pee first," This was ludicrous. She was begging a police officer to let her use the toilet in her own home. But he couldn't possibly know how desperate she was—how much it hurt. Her bladder was this close to exploding and her bathroom was on the other side of her apartment. She'd be lucky to get there in time even if he let her. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ The change in Bethany's tone caught Mark's attention. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes fixed on her. He had trusted her once, but knowing what he knew now, he could no longer quite bring himself to believe her. Mark was worried she'd try to hide or destroy whatever Anthony had left lying around. He wanted the bastard behind bars and the more evidence he had the better. Dragging Bethany to the court along with her boyfriend would teach the little cunt a lesson she would not forget any time soon. If by any chance there was nothing discriminating to be found in the apartment, Mark had just the solution in his pocket. Anthony was a known drug dealer. No one would question Mark if he told them he had found some crack from Bethany's apartment. "Bee, you don't seem to understand your situation." He raised his hand even as she protested, cutting the young woman off. Mark cared little for what he deemed to be her excuses. "Both the judge and I think that you might have been helping a felon. Do you understand what that means? he asked her, reaching to pat the handcuffs clipped to his belt. You are walking on thin ice, girl. You might want to be real careful here." He was itching for an excuse to get his hands on her, his cock slowly hardening in his pants. "Really now." Mark sighed. "Is that why you are wiggling like that?" He scoffed, sounding amused. Mirth gleamed in his eyes, the old cop rather amused with her admission. "Sure. Go on then. We can't have you pee yourself there like a little girl." The tall man stepped to the side, his eyes never leaving her. The distraught young woman could see a wry smile on his lips, her tormentor appearing to enjoy himself at her expense. Still, it seemed that the callous cop had some mercy for her despite the circumstances of their reunion. "You can use the bathroom," he murmured, sounding annoyed as he beckoned Bethany to move. "But you'll keep the door open. Understood?" She could hear suspicion in his tone, Mark frowning softly. He had seen more than his fair share of suspects trying to get rid of evidence. "I need to be sure you aren't flushing down anything that I might need later." The tall cop smirked, making his way to the bathroom. He pulled the door open, resting his hand on the door handle. Mark turned to look at Bethany, standing by the open door. He had made sure that he could see the toilet seat from where he stood. Mark wasn't going to allow the young woman any chances to escape his eyes. ​