My First Time, My First Love Ch. 3
The next day I awoke. Still shutting off the alarm as soon as it came on, in the habit of not waking Troy. I rolled around the bed, expecting to see my mate there, snoozing peacefully in his own world. All that was there were the sheets, and in my mind, that empty area was ridden with memories of times talking, caring for each other, and many more compassionate things for each other. All of those are now blood-stained memories, ridden by disease and deceased. That space had become a pit of depression and blackness.
I quickly swung out of bed, trying my best to not let my emotions get the better of me as I walked downstairs.
I came upon the coffee pot, which I usually set, but this morning, I just walked straight past it, lying on the couch in the living room.
Suddenly I burst into tears, not able to hold it back anymore as the memories flooded over me of the past months we had been together. All of the nice times I had had in this house with him, and all of the arguments and countering decisions we had thrown at each other, but had always ended in a nice way.
We were perfect for each other, and now the one thing in life that would have some kind of meaning to me was dead.
I quickly pulled myself together as I remembered I would be needed in the investigation to my love's murderer.
I walked back upstairs, avoiding mostly everything that would remind me of Troy, although it was impossible. Even avoiding the bed, almost the room itself, I opened the closet with all of OUR clothes in it, including Troy's.
I was sobbing as hard as any animal could sob as I grabbed some clothes at random for the day with my shaking paws, quickly hurrying downstairs again to try and get dressed in peace.
I got dressed in a hurry, trying as fast as I could to get out of the house. As soon as I was dressed, I walked straight out the door and locked it, nothing else.
I came into the town mush slower than I usually did. Almost completely lost in my depression I absentmindedly walked into the coffee shop, The Vistage. I walked to a random empty table and sat down, cradling my head in my hands.
Then I heard the chair next to me being scraped along the cold stone floor, and I looked up to see Ted, already dressed in his uniform.
"Are you ready to try and give us some information that might help us determine his killer's purpose?"
"I'll try. I can hardly keep myself together in my own house, it's so full of wonderful memories of him." I responded, tears welling up in my eyes just thinking about him.
"I understand. You see, the reason why I came into the law business was to keep this from happening to people. My wife was murdered while I was out on work, and it was the most horrible time of my life, so I know what it feels like to lose someone close. Just be happy though that I don't mind doing this for a homosexual, because a lot of cops out there are against people like you and don't want anything to do with them. I on the other hand don't care, I just want's suffering to stop, no matter what or who the relationship was on."
"Thank you, I appreciate it. Really, I can't thank you enough for understanding."
"It's fine, do you want something to eat?"
"No thank you, thanks though. I'm not hungry."
"Alright then, do you want to some to the station and give us some information now? Or do you prefer later?"
"Anything that will keep me out of that house."
"Ok, just jump in my car. Let's go."
With that, we left the shop and I jumped into the passenger seat of his cop care, while he went around to the other side to get in the driver's seat. When he was in, he started up the care, and we were off.
About halfway to the station, I started something that probably shouldn't have been started, but I needed to know.
"Do you mind if I ask a personal question? One about your wife?"
"Go ahead, I'm over it now, although sometimes it still haunts me."
"Alright. How did she die?" A long pause was undergoing the last letter from my mouth and the first from his, outlined by the revving of the car.
"I was out at work, and she got home early from work. She was making dinner already and I was on my way back from work. I drove up to the house, opened the door, called out, and no answer. I went into the kitchen to see what was cooking, and there was blood spattered everywhere and a huge puddle on the floor, along with the rest of her head. We found a shotgun shell on the premises after investigation, and also we found a watch with a broken wristband. The exact same kind that her ex-husband wore, and when we later brought him in for questioning, he wasn't wearing it. We asked him what happened to it, and he said he accidentally hit it with a hammer while he was working on some home improvement. We went to his house, and we found no home improvement. We later took some shock experts and they said that the pin in the watch came out as the blast from the shotgun traveled through his gun. And to this day, he is, and will be still, in prison."
"Wow." That's all I had to say, and that was all there could be said. We were both quiet for the rest of the ride. During the ride though, I though to myself a lot. One of the thoughts is that how could he have so much mental stability to talk about his wife being murdered and even telling the story of it while driving? That took nerves of steel and so much mental exercise to be able to withstand that kind of emotional pressure is amazing.
I wished I could be like him.
We stopped at the station in the next few minutes, and he led me inside to a room already filled with about two investigators, and now including himself in the count, three. The door was closed and locked, and the tapes were started.
"Hello, I'm Eric." One of the suited up investigators said, while extending his hand. I shook it as the other did the same.
"And I'm John, why don't you have a seat over there behind the table, please?"
I walked behind the table to where a cushioned chair was waiting. The one who addressed himself as Eric spoke first.
"So, first and foremost, what do you think could have provoked this attack? Is there some sort of gang rivalry? Old scores to settle? Anything?"
"Well, he came from a different city only a few months ago, so I wouldn't know any other kind of friends back there. But he does have three more that came with him when I first met him, and he keeps in contact with them a lot to see how things are going so I could give you their number to see what they know."
"Good, but after this. Anything else?"
"Well, I'm sure you know this already, but I don't know if sexual discrimination was a part of it. Which means that I would be next in their chain."
"That could be a main factor yes. Is that all you can tell us about provoking the attack?"
"There is one more. I doubt that this was a factor at all, but what intrigues me is that they sent him a litter saying that he needed a job, and they could get him one. So just the reason that he was unemployed and looking for a job they took for their advantage and also maybe as a provoking factor."
"That's all?"
"That's all that I can tell you from my knowledge standpoint, but I bet that his older friends could tell you more about his past."
"Thank you. And what about Mjrello? Do you know anything about him?"
"Nothing at all except the things that you told me last night."
"Alright. And what about Troy?"
The next question had a lot of questioned piled into it, like sub-questions. They wanted to know everything about him. His eating habits, his outing times, where he goes, his personality. Everything. And I told them everything I know about him.
When we were done, approximately 9 hours later, it was eight o'clock. And dark. So I asked Ted to take me home again. He gladly did so, but I had a stop for him to make for me while we were going home.
He pulled up on the side of the road, clearly hearing my reason for doing this. He actually encouraged it, for it would come in use later on.
I exited the car, and opened the door of the shop.
"Hello! How are you?" The cashier said to me as I walked in, looking around at the merchandise.
"Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Yes, there is actually. Which one of these would you recommend for the best performance?"
"I would recommend this one right---HERE---." He lifted it up for me to see.
"I'll take it."
I went back out to the car, and Ted was completely understanding in the matter that I didn't want to talk about it.
We reached my house without a word about it.
"Thanks for the ride again, Ted."
"No problem. Do I have to do this every time that you're with us?"
"Probably."
"Good. I look forward to tomorrow and working with the information. Oh, hey, you don't need to come in tomorrow unless you're called, just so you know."
"Thanks, good night."
"You too."
I unlocked the door, stepped in, and locked it back again.
I went upstairs and sat on the bed, slightly getting un-accustomed to Troy not being in here with me.
I pulled out what I had gotten. It was a handgun. I took out the magazine and the box of ammunition that I had bought with it and I loaded the magazine and put it back in the gun. Since there was nobody that would come here for the next few days, it was safe to leave it in.
I put the gun on my dresser next to my bed and went downstairs to make me a small dinner of a sandwich. After that, I went to bed.
Again I awoke turning off the alarm the same way I did with Troy there, but this time I didn't look over to see that hole of depression where his body should have been.
I went downstairs and fixed myself a small breakfast, just enough to hold me over until a few hours later.
I had been up for about 90 minutes when the phone rang. I picked it up and started the conversation.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Greg, you won't believe this." It was Ted.
"What?"
"Well, the police department of Colorado just called in about an hour ago saying that they apprehended Mjrello and have him in custody. They sent up pictures of him to identify him and it's your husbands killer. We---"
I hung up the phone and ran out the door, not even locking it as I went out and ran as fast as I could down to the station.
It took me about twenty minutes to get there, but Ted was standing at the entrance when I arrived.
"Hey, I knew you would be coming. We all got worried that they had killed you or something when you hung up, but I know you would come to the station. They wanted me to go to your house and look, but I told them that you would come."
"Where are the pictures and how long will it be before they send him over to be questioned?"
"It'll be about 4 hours before he finally gets over here. And we have the pictures inside."
I walked in behind ted as he led me to the computer room where the rest of the team were looking through the pictures, marking down any identifying marks.
I walked up behind them, and just watched as they scrolled through the pictures.
I had seem him on the street before, before I even met Troy. He had been walking around outside the office most days that I would be coming or going from the office either from my house or from the coffee shop.
It's scary to see someone that you had seen and known acquaintance wise be the murderer of someone you loved. It's gut wrenching. And you want to kill them, there and then.
"Ted, I have a question."
"What's that."
"Am I able to interrogate him myself? If so, could I use all force necessary to make him talk?"
"Here, I'll be right back, I'll go see what the chief says."
With that he left the room, and I continued looking at the screens as the team continued to mark down areas.
With every moment my resolve to show him how angry I was grew more and more.
Then Ted came back in.
"He says as long as you don't kill him, he grants you full permission of any force necessary besides death."
"Good."
I couldn't wait to meet him and give him a pleasant greeting.
Three hours came and passed as I planned how I would throw questions at him. One more left before I could show him what I felt.
The last hour went by slowly, but eventually Ted came back to me and told me that he was finally here and that I needed to wait only a few more minutes so they could tell him what was going to happen and secure him.
A few minutes later Ted came back and got me, and I was led into the room with him. As I saw him, my anger grew exponentially, almost making me lash at him right there. But I held it in, just a few more minutes I thought to myself.
"Mjrello, this is your interrogator."
"Who the fuck are you?" He said, spitting at me.
"The husband of the one you killed."
"Husband, ha, gay shit." He spat at me again.
"I'll leave you two along, remember, don't kill him." Ted said to me as he was leaving.
He shut the door, and the fun began. I sat down in the chair opposite the desk from him, and asked him the simplest question in the world.
"Why did you do it?"
"Why should I fucking tell you?"
BAM! The punch echoed in the room, and I got up from my chair and started pacing through the room as Mjrello spat blood from his mouth.
"Just telling you, I have been granted to use any force necessary to get you to talk."
He probably would have said "Fuck you" or something if he wasn't preoccupied with shock. Once he regained himself, I repeated the question.
"I will ask you until you tell me, why did you do it?"
He supposedly spat onto the table in front of me, but it was all blood instead. Pinning my anger down for a moment, I moved the desk to the side of the room to open up all of his body for blows. I walked up beside him to his right, my left, spun, and kicked a hard as I could into his gut, wrenching a gasp from his lips as the air was knocked out of him, along with some of the blood from his mouth.
"Why did you do it?"
No answer, just another spit. This time I spun and kicked him in the head, wrenching a few teeth from his mouth and ricocheting off the stone walls, along with a long stream of blood now.
"Next time it will be harder. Why did you do it?"
This time he managed to get out some words.
"Because gay people deserve to die in this world." He spluttered.
"This world you are referring to, is it YOUR OWN!" With an increase in volume in the last two words I spun closer and knocked him on the jaw with my elbow, knocking a few more teeth from his mouth.
"Why do we deserve to die?"
"Because it is unnatural. It is an abomination."
"Nice vocabulary, but there is nothing wrong with it. It is not a mutation, some people are born with it. And just because we're born with it means that they deserve to die, that doesn't seem fair, now does it? It's not our fault. Besides, maybe straight people are the ones with mutations and mental problems. Ever think of that?"
"No, but I believe in my way!"
Crack, and another blow from the elbow.
"Once you killed the only thing in my life that had meaning to me, were you going to kill me?"
"..."
"Answer me!"
"Yes, we were, and still are."
With that, I was satisfied with the information he gave me, but I wasn't finished yet.
"That's all I needed to know."
"Good, can I go now?"
"Oh, no, I'm not finished yet."
I stood in front of him and delivered punch after punch, about 25 punched later, I was done, and so was his face. I walked out of the door, and said that I got all the information I needed from him, and Ted and the two investigators took him away.
About twenty minutes later, Ted and the two guys came back and asked me what I got from him.
"Well, I got the cause, why he thinks that we should die because of it, and his plans for me."
"What were they?"
"They cause was because we were gay, he thinks so because he thinks we are an abomination and a mutation of everything living and don't deserve to live. And they are also going to make an attempt at my life."
"We will station guards around---" Ted started.
"No, I will do this on my own."
"But that will be murder on your part!"
"No, it will be fatal self defense." Ted was silent after this, knowing that he was beat in this battle against wits.
"This is your choice, but I sure hope you know what you're doing."
"I do, don't worry." I walked down the hallways and towards the exit.
As I walked out of the station, I thought to myself.
I won't die before they do...