Snitches get Stiches Part 2 (Lola)

(Lola)

Present...

“Coffee?” Detective Miller offers, interrupting my thoughts. “It tastes like burn dirty, but beggars can’t be choicers’.”

“Sounds delightful, but no thanks,” I remark sarcastically, despite my throat feeling like sandpaper. I didn’t trust the nice detectives not to spike my drink or anyone else for that matter. Police Station or not, stranger things had happened.

“Suit yourself,” He shrugs, turning to leave.

“I’ll have a can of coke instead.” Before he had a chance to leave, I intercepted my words more of a demand than a question. “If you’ve got one. Make it unopened… if you don’t mind.” I add with a smirk, intentionally dragging my chair across the laminate floor before he could respond, the friction making a cringe-worthy scrapping sound.