Good isn't perfect [c.e] | 18+ a Chris Evans fanfic

35 | Court

The police burst through my door. Two of them put my father in handcuffs leading him out of my office. The third, a lady, who looked like Ms. Berg, started to ask Chris questions. I could only pick out bits and pieces of what they were saying.

"Norsk?"

"No, I'm American." Chris explained. The officer nodded before she continued.

"What happened here?" I couldn't figure out what Chris told her, but his eyes were fixed on me, like I would disappear if he didn't keep an eye on me. I had started to shake, and I couldn't seem to make my body stop, I had no control over it. I wasn't supposed to be stressing.

It felt like hours before Chris finished answering the police their questions. He followed them to the door, thanking them and closed the door behind them. He locked the door before he walked over to me and laid down on the floor facing me. We laid in silence, and I tried to focus on his eyes as best as I could. He took long deep breaths and I tried to make my short and quick once match his.

I thought I was doing a good job until I heard a scream from outside the door and banging on the door with my father shouting he was going to kill me. As fast as the lighting we were back on scratch. My breath quickened and I felt like I couldn't breathe again. How had my father escaped the police? The knocking eventually faded and I could hear my father shouting ugly words to the police. That was a felony itself.

"He isn't going to hurt you anymore, Caroline." Chris soft words spoke to me trying to pull me back from my current state with no luck. "You are safe, sweetheart. He isn't going to hurt you anymore." I focused on his words and his soft eyes, trying to breathe in the same pattern like him. I closed my eyes and focused on his words. Chris kept talking to me and slowly he pulled me back to the surface.

I wrapped my arms around him and he pulled us both up to a sitting position. "You are safe, Line." Inhaling his scent it pulled me all the way back to the current reality. I would have died today if Chris hadn't been here. "Let's get you home."

"I can't," My voice was still shaking. "I need to stay here until we close up for the day." Chris showed me his phone. The clock showed 5:15 pm. How long had I been out for?

"You were out for almost two hours. Do you need me to help with anything before we leave?" I shook my head. I knew Oddbjørg had fixed everything.

"No, I just need to hang up your beautiful drawing, like a proud parent," I joked away the pain I was feeling. "Look at this beautiful drawing, my good boy. I'm so proud of you, you're the best in your class, I'm sure of that." I locked up my office and led Chris out through the back door, we couldn't risk getting seen together. We would probably end up in Dagbladet or VG, possibly both if we did. I looked like hell as well, with my bruised up face.

I pulled him with me to my car. I tried to open it, but my hands were shaking and I lost the keys on the ground. I crouched down but winced in pain, holding onto my stomach I prayed a silent prayer. Chris rushed to my side and helped me pick up my keys and unlocked my car before he helped me into the car on the passenger side.

"You okay?" He started the car.

I nodded. "Yep, I just have an injury to my liver, but it's fine. I was checked out at the hospital last night. It will heal by itself in a few days or so." It didn't look like Chris was believing me, but I was only partly lying.

Chris had taken me to the hotel he was staying at. "I have actually never been into this hotel." I looked around at the beautiful architect of the building. Chris looked at me with wide eyes. "Never?"