In Love With A Police Officer

POV: River Lockhart

The last thing I wanted was to fall in love with a police officer.

Every scene that happened during the exquisite lunch looped in my head. It wasn't the first time my father acted that way toward me. Plates slamming against the wall behind me, and his wife screaming at the top of her lungs to stop us from using any violence, while the waiter beside us kept count of the tableware that my father destroyed.

It was my father's birthday, and yesterday I received an invitation from his wife asking me to attend the lunch as he would be happy to see me. I wore a plain shirt beneath and a black jacket to show a little formality, but I never went for a proper tuxedo because I believed it wouldn't be an issue.

Things were all under control. The venue was good, and it was lit dimly to make it appear even more elite. The aroma in the private room made me feel at ease, although I felt like a stranger in there.

That was when my father came in through the doors with his wife clinging to his side, holding his upper arm and whispering something in his ear, to which he laughed a deep chuckle. (My step-brother, Chase, didn't come to the dinner as he was abroad in France, completing his studies.) I almost had my eyes rolling, but I held it in. As he sat in front of me, I stood up and presented him with the black leather box in which I had a nice watch as his gift.

He nodded in affirmation but didn't look too happy to see it. My eyes shifted to the gift his wife was giving him. But my eyes almost instantly caught the bracelet she was wearing.

It belonged to my mom.

Why. This woman, my father's current wife, had all the expensive things she could ask for. Hundreds of different jewellery pieces and bracelets, and she even owned a jewellery shop where she had met my father.

Why was she wearing my mom's bracelet out of all?

Afterwards, what I saw was only red in my eyes.

~.~

"Fuck. Go on the correct path, you wuss." I curse at the vehicle in front of me, which goes so slow and boils my blood, as I am already mad. My hand bangs against the horn for the tenth time in a row, leaving it red against the leather. But the pain in my hand doesn't bother me the slightest. It is the driver in front of me who drives me mad.

"Chill, River. The fact that your father scolded you doesn't mean you can drive like this. You are going to kill yourself if you drive like this! At least think about my poor life here! I am not part of anything," my best friend, Lucas Turner, says with his blue eyes widening as he sends his hand through his dirty blond hair.

But once