Roan Carter is my savior.

I was found in an abandoned building in the next town over from mine.  I had mud caked on my face and clothes, along with dried blood and bruises covering my body.  I had only been gone for two days, but in those two days chaos emerged.  My parents had almost everyone in the entire town looking for me, hoping that I would still be alive.  The police told me that I was barely breathing when I was found, and that I was very lucky to be alive, as if I didn't already know that.  Lucky to have all of my limbs attached to my body.  I didn't feel all that lucky though.  But hey, barely breathing is better than not breathing at all right?  Now all I had to do was survive what I called mild interrogation at the police station.

Today, my mother had to take me to the police station, per Mr. Carter's orders, whoever that guy was.  I didn't want to go, just because I felt that it was too early to subject me to the incident again.  However nobody listens to a 17 year old girl who has become a little delusional.  I guess the police's excuse to bring me into the station was that they wanted to see if I was okay.  Whatever, I wasn't going to be at the station long anyways, so I should be able to endure the never-ending torture of questions they would hurl at me.  For some reason I got the discomforting feeling that the police wanted to see if I was more than okay.  I felt as if they were wondering how I have held up through this situation.  I'm not ready for these questions, I mentally groaned.  The cops can ask all the questions they wanted; if I knew the answer or not was a different story.  Besides, it isn't my fault if I don't give them what they want.

Once we arrived at the station, I was greeted by a blonde haired woman holding a stack of files and papers in one hand, and a Styrofoam coffee cup in the other.  Her clear blue eyes brightened when she saw me walk through the door. 

"Hello, I'm Melissa.  Your name is Evelyn Raven, correct?" she asked me.  The woman gracefully walked over and grasped my hand in a firm grip, shaking it.  My hand was flimsy as she shook it; I imagine to her it felt as if she was shaking a dolls hand.  I felt uncomfortable in the current situation, wanting to hide under a rock.  I looked over at my mother, giving her a worried glance.  She offered me a reassuring smile in response.

"Yeah, that would be me." I mumbled to the blonde haired woman.  "How'd you know?"

"I was there with the other officers the night you were found," she said to me, giving me a sly smile.  "Hello Suzanne," she greeted to my mother.  I gave my mother a bewildered look.  How do they know each other?

"Hello Melissa.  How are you?" My mother asked in return.  My mother walked over and shook the woman's, I mean Michelle's, hand. 

"I've been good," Melissa responded.

"How do you guys know each other?" I interrupted.

"Melissa is the one that called me one night when I was praying, about to go to sleep and said that they had found you.  I raced over to the place as soon as I could.  You don't know how happy I was when the police called me," my mother said to me.

"I'm glad someone did find me," I whispered back.  Part of me truly was happy, but another part of me, a darker part of me, was infuriated with the fact that I had to live with the post trauma of everything.

"Yes, I can say everyone here at the station was happy too," Melissa chirped. 

"Do you know who found me?" I abruptly asked Melissa.  I was suddenly curious.  I wondered how they found me, and how they knew that I was the missing girl.  I also really wanted to know who found me so I could thank the person.  After all, they saved my life.

"Yes," she simply said, staring at me with a blank look in her eyes.  Her response had suddenly made me suspicious.  I got the sudden notion that she was trying to hide something.

"Then who was it?" I prodded, scrunching my brows together.  Why did my rescuer matter to her?

"I think it would be best if they told you themselves," she said, setting her coffee down on a nearby desk.  She motioned for me to follow her as she started walking towards a glass office door.  I followed, walking fast to keep up with her pace.  My mother followed us close behind.  When we walked through the door, I examined the small room.  It had glass windows on one side, letting sunlight shine through, making the place seem oddly chirpy.  Telephones rang in the background, people hurriedly answering the phones were quickly followed.  The room was filled with people talking, bustling around, and typing on computers.  Pictures of people hung on big whiteboards, under them were numbers and names.  I ran a hand through my hair, nervously.  It seemed weird for me to be in this place; I felt oddly out of place.  I really just wanted to go home and sleep.

"This is where we work on current cases going on in the county." Melissa motioned over to a desk where a man with blonde hair was sitting.  His feet were propped up on the desk, his hands were behind his head.  Something seemed strangely familiar about him.  He seemed to be reading something on his computer.   "This is Roan Carter, the officer who is in charge of your case."

"Okay," I drawled.  I crossed my arms, wanting to just get this done and over with. 

"I'm going to be leaving you with him while I talk to your mother about a few things.  Is that okay?" Melissa asked me.  I nodded in response, watching her and my mother practically run away, leaving me with a complete stranger.

"Um...Hello," I quietly whispered, trying to get this man's attention.  He quickly turned around in his chair, clearing his throat.  He had the deepest brown eyes that I had ever seen.  His eyes were like a dark chocolate color, almost black.  They were beautiful, but there was something oddly familiar about those brown eyes.  What that thing is, I'm not sure. I'm probably just hallucinating things now.  But is that a bad thing?  I'd say maybe.

"Oh, um hi," he mumbled, ripping me from my thoughts.  I blushed, moving back half a step. 

"Melissa told me to stay over here with you while she talked to my mom," I muttered, hoping he couldn't see that I was blushing.  But of course, my blonde hair and pale skin made it very clear that I was indeed blushing.  He smiled, indicating that he had noticed.  How lovely, I thought.

"Ah, yes.  Officer Woodley wanted me to go over some details with you Evelyn." He said to me.  I was taken back, not wanting to be around him anymore.  How did he know my name?

"How do you know my name?" I blurted.  His brows shot up, his eyes looked shocked.  He gave me a strange look.  "Should I know you?" I questioned him even further, narrowing my dull grey eyes at him.  "Who are you?"  My tone became defensive as I questioned him even further.

"I'm the one working your case Evelyn."  He held up his arms in defense.  "I know that you have gone through a lot, but trust me, I'm not going to hurt you.  Ever.  I swear."  His face was serious, not even showing a hint of lying.  He seemed to be telling me the truth.  I relaxed a little when he said that to me.  There was something in his deep, velvety voice that made me believe him when he said that he wasn't going to let anything else happen to me.  His voice also seemed strangely....familiar.  But I decided that I was just stressing over silly things. 

Stop over reacting, I thought.  Everyone here at this police station is going to know who you are Evelyn; get over it.  Michelle even said even warned me that every police officer in this building was going to be in my personal life.  I instantly felt bad for questioning him so much.  After all, he was just trying to do his job, and here I was, going absolutely crazy on him.  He probably thought that I was a freak.  I wouldn't blame him if he did think that.

I nodded in response, offering him a little smile.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to lash out at you, I just haven't been myself the last few days."

"It's fine.  I would be freaked out too if I were in the same situation as you," he responded.

"I would like to know your name though," I said.

He smiled in response, making me want to smile even wider.  "The names Roan.  Roan Carter."  He put out his hand, waiting for me to shake it.  After a few seconds I took it, firmly gripping his hand and shaking it.  I hope he doesn't notice how sweaty my hands are, I thought.

"Roan?  That's a cool name for a cop," I said lightly.  He ran a hand through his blonde hair, stretching his arms.  I tried to ignore his actions, not wanting him to see that I was totally drooling over him.  To my defense he was very attractive.

"Haha, yes I have been told that.  But if you don't mind, we should probably get back to work," he gestured to his computer and his papers, making me mentally slap myself.  A sudden feeling of embarrassment rushed through my veins.  Yep, he definitely thinks I'm crazy, I thought.

"Yeah, yeah.  Let's do that," I mumbled, grabbing a chair and dragging it over to his desk.  I sat down, looking at my scuffed up shoes.  I was determined to look anywhere but at Roan.  He leaned on his desk, clicking and typing things into his computer.  He was probably saying that I am a mental nutcase.

"Can you recall anything from the night you were abducted?" he asked me, ripping me from my thoughts.  I glanced up at him, looking into those warm brown eyes of his. 

"I remember walking home from Colette's house, thinking about the storm that was supposed to hit around ten thirty," I mumbled, picking at my lip as I tried to remember the events of that night. 

"Okay," Roan encouraged.  He feverishly typed what I was telling him.  "Who's Colette?"

"Colette is my best friend.  She lives a few blocks away from my house."  I now started to pick at the fraying ugly green material on the arm of the chair.

"What is Colette's last name?" 

"Valencia," I whispered. 

"Okay.  Continue," Roan said.  I sat there and thought for a moment. 

"All of a sudden I heard thunder rumbling and I became scared.  I started running towards my house, wanting to get home before the storm hit.  I was running so fast and then it started to rain really hard.  I had to stop because there was....a van in the road.  I remember getting really, really mad at the van because it was just sitting there, not moving.  I finally had enough of it and walked around the truck.  Then everything just went black.  That's all I remember," I whispered in a small voice.  Roan finished typing and sat in his chair for a minute, not moving or talking.  I accidentally glanced up at him and caught him looking at me with sadness in his eyes.  Finally, he moved.  He leaned towards me and put his warm hand on my knee, making me jump.  The sudden contact of his hand on my knee made me scared, but that was only because I wasn't used to people touching me without addressing it to me first.  Roan didn't seem to notice my discomfort though. 

"I'm sorry that this happened to you," he whispered to me.  He probably told everyone that.

I nodded.  "Me too," I whispered back.  His eyes never left mine, as he got up out of his chair.  I quickly followed, nervously running a hand through my hair for the millionth time.

"We don't have a lead on who your kidnapper is.  But we do know a few things." He walked over to a white board with a picture of me clipped onto it.  He gestured to a few things scrawled in sloppy handwriting on the board.  "We know that whoever the kidnapper was, he didn't want to kill you."  I met his gaze, giving him a doubtful look.

"How do you know that?" I prodded. 

"Because if he wanted you dead, you wouldn't have been found alive.  The place where you were found was so remote, he could have killed you there and nobody would have ever known.  The closest house was thirty miles away." He said to me.  I rubbed my neck with my hand, trying to take all of this information in.  It was a lot to deal with all at once. 

"Why didn't he kill me?" I asked.

"That's the part that we are trying to find out.  Most of the time when a killer leaves their victims alive is because there is a strong feeling or connection towards the victim, or because they are trying to leave a message." He sighed.  "The kidnapper's motives are still unknown, unfortunately."

"But that still doesn't make any sense.  If I don't know this person why would they want to hurt me?"

"You might know them, or they could be trying to send a message to the local authorities," he said.

"Aren't the local authorities your team?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.  He chuckled a little, wiping his face with his hands.

"Yes."

"This still doesn't make any sense at all!  Why would someone want to hurt me?  I haven't done anything to anyone!" I yelled in an exasperated voice.

"I don't know Evelyn," Roan mumbled.  "But I do know one other thing."

"What's that?" I questioned.

"My team and I are going to find this person.  We are going to put them behind bars, where they belong."  He looked at me, his eyes begging me to believe him.  That's not really what I wanted to hear.  I mean, I was glad that they were going to catch this guy, but I want to help them.  I wanted to help find him, and I wanted to kill him,

"Okay," I said.  "But I want to help."  I left out the murder part of the plan.

"You what?" he asked dumbfounded.

"I want to help you and your team find this person," I said.

"No, no, no!  It's way too dangerous Evelyn!" Roan dismissed.  I stubbornly crossed my arms, glaring at him.

"I wasn't asking for permission Roan."

Roan returned my glare, in efforts to change my mind; however, it wasn't working.  I am determined to find out who this person is.  I will succeed, or die trying.  Not literally, but you get the idea. 

"And what if I don't let you?" he stubbornly asked. 

"Then I will do it on my own, without someone there to protect me," I said in a matter of fact tone.

"But that would be putting your life at risk again." He stated.

"Which is happening in either situation," I reminded.

"This is more dangerous."

"So?  Do you know how much I hate the person who did this to me?" I asked.

"Yes, I can imagine," he stated. 

"No, you don't."  I scowled.  "I hate this person so much, I could kill them myself.  And I could do it with my bare hands."

"Then why even bother working with the authorities?" Roan asked.

"Because I am too young to go to jail for the rest of my life," I retorted. 

"That's true," he agreed.

"Just let me do it Roan."  Roan took a deep breath.  His eyes showed how conflicted he felt on the inside.  I know that I wasn't putting him in the best situation, but I didn't care.  I needed a happy ending to this story, well as happy of an ending as I could get.  I wanted to know everything the cops know; I don't want to be left out on important details because they think that I can't handle it.  I might not be able to handle it, but it would be better than being lied to.

"Fine."  Roan grumbled.  "But you better stay out of my way.  Once this case gets going, I have a feeling it won't stop.  And I won't have you being put in harm's way again."

"Okay," I eagerly agreed.

"Now that's clear," He grunted.  I could see a smile was playing on his lips, but he refused to let it show.  I sighed, wondering what I had gotten myself into.  I didn't know much of what was in store for me, but I did know one thing; this was going to be a crazy few months. 

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Posted on April 15, 2015

Edited on January 6, 2015

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I would like to thank Falyn1318 for helping me write this chapter and for promoting my story, she's the bomb ;)

Is anyone else obsessed with the Walking Dead, or is it just me?  I keep binge watching the series, and re watching when I'm finished with seasons 1-4.  I think I have a problem.

Just to see who really reads the note at the end, here is some new information about the updates.

I am re-writing chapter three completely.  I'm making the chapters about her time at the hospital so you get a better feel on what she is going through and her journey.  So, needless to say, there will be more parts added in and some of chapter three will be deleted, while the other part will be completely re-written.  I hope you enjoy it!

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