Sappy Heartwood

12: So many issues.

There is no such thing as writer's block, simply let your fingers do the talking.

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Chapter Twelve

So many issues.

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In a previous statement, I mentioned hearing a gunshot but failed to specify that it sounded as if it was in the distance. However, I soon realised the shot was closer than I initially thought when I heard it whizzing through the air above me. The detective immediately came to my side and stood as if shielding me.

"Finn!" A man wearing all black clothing stepped out of the helicopter and sprinted towards us. I found it strange he used the detective's first name. "Thank goodness you're alright!" His British accent was lighter than the detective's.

"Indeed," Detective Daniels nodded before standing upright and inspecting his jacket. "Fantastic, it's torn. I shall require it to be repaired."

I peered at the little tear on his left sleeve. "What? Why? You can hardly notice it."

"It must be flawless and remain unscathed." He sounded rather angry.

After the explosion, I couldn't believe we were still alive. However, the detective seemed to be more concerned about the condition of his jacket than our safety. I couldn't fathom how he could be careless and insensitive towards our situation. It made me question his priorities.

By now, the other man stood before us. "I feared the worst when we got your sos." And then his dark eyes fell on me. "Why hello there, who is this stunning lady?"

"No one who concerns you, brother."

Oh, they're brothers.

As I ponder upon their physical features, I can't help but notice a distinct resemblance in the eye area of both brothers. However, one notable difference is that the detective has a prominent moustache and beard, whereas his younger brother is clean-shaven and shorter.

Ignoring his older brother, the man whose name I didn't know approached me. "Which corner did Finn pick you up from?"

A smirk crept on my face. "Wasn't a corner, mate. We bumped into each other at a cafe."

"I keep telling Finn it's about time he settled down and had a family." He turned to the detective. "Brother, I didn't suggest you get a random pro. God knows what diseases she's carrying."

Pro?

Oh, fuck no.

Pro, as in prostitute?

I should tell him off for even suggesting that I would do such a disgusting thing. Even if I wasn't a virgin, being a hooker is not something I would never do, not even for money.

"She is a suspect in an investigation."

Ugh, why does he keep thinking that? You'd think he would understand by now I'm not a suspect. I had nothing to do with Mrs Smith's murder or Rachel's disappearance.

"She's a suspect?" the other brother laughed. "I say, what on earth do you think she did? She looks as harmless as a flower."

"Get on the helicopter." Judging from the tone of the detective's voice, it was not a request. It was an order.

"Finn, has anyone told you that—"

"No, now, get on onboard."

I've only spent not even half a day with this man, and I can already tell he's impatient.