Part 12
Ten minutes later, the gravel parking lot of the County Sheriff’s Department came into view. It was a modest, single-story brick building surrounded by tall pine trees, looking more like a mountain cabin than a police station.
I pulled the truck right up to the front entrance, stopping directly under the glare of the security cameras.
"We’re here," I said, turning off the engine.
But before we could even unbuckle our seatbelts, the heavy roar of an engine echoed through the quiet afternoon air.
The black SUV tore into the gravel lot, its front bumper hanging off by a few loose wires, covered in dirt and scratches. Evan didn't care about the damage. He pulled his vehicle diagonally across the front of my truck, completely blocking us in.
The driver's side door flew open.
Evan stepped out. His expensive suit jacket was gone, his white dress shirt was wrinkled, and his hair was wildly disheveled. His face was twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated fury.
"Maya!" he roared, slamming his car door shut and marching toward my truck. "Get out of the car! Get out right now!"
Maya shrank back into her seat, her entire body trembling as she stared at the man who had controlled her life for so long.
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"Stay here," I told her, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous register.
I opened my door and stepped out into the gravel, slamming the truck door shut behind me. I stood directly between Evan and the passenger side of my truck.
